CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #3
It seems like a requirement. The man might be built of brawn and arrogance, but even he will struggle to rip leather apart at the seams. I nod for him to proceed.
Byron opens my pants and peels the supple material down my legs, stripping off the scrap of my thong in one fell swoop. I assume he’s going to undo my boots to finish the job.
“Brace yourself.”
That’s the only warning I get. He lifts my caged ankles off the ground, which hoists me higher on the wooden wall. A fluid ducking maneuver wedges his head into the split between my thighs as if it was created for him. It’s stunning how quickly he pulled that off, but then my mind blanks out.
His exhales puff against my exposed center. A shiver ripples through me and I moan. In this position, we’re locked together. I’m apprehended. It’s vulnerable and requires trust—two things I avoid. But I decide to see where this goes.
I relax and allow my knees to hang over his shoulders.
My ass kisses the cool panels behind me, chasing off some of the fire in my veins.
Byron’s palms are suddenly there to cradle my butt like a seat.
He’s holding me as if I weigh no more than a feather.
I feel fragile and precious. It’s not entirely unpleasant.
“Ready?” The question caresses my arousal.
I haven’t dared to move during this readjustment other than where he’s placed me. My nod is barely recognizable.
“Need to hear you,” he rasps.
The embers of my stubborn pride burn through me, keeping my attention fixed straight ahead. “Go ahead.”
But he doesn’t listen. “Look at me.”
That’s the opposite of what instinct dictates. The thought of gazing longingly at someone induces nausea. I’ve never exchanged eye contact with my partners during sexual acts. It’s too intimate and sensual. But this is Byron. He’s not a faceless identity I get to walk away from.
My glare lowers to his. “I’m tempted to stab you.”
There’s entirely too much emotion swelling in those warm brown depths. “If that’s what you need to stay suspended in this moment.”
“Aren’t I restrained enough?” I buck against him and get nowhere.
He tightens his grip. “Be here with me. I’ve got you.”
That traitorous burn attacks my eyes and I blink quickly. “Okay.”
I’m helpless to watch as his tongue tastes what nobody else has. The first swipe is gentle, almost like a tease. I squirm in impatience. His chuckle scolds me. Before I can discipline him with my knife, he opens wide and buries his face in my pussy.
It’s a shock to my system. I jolt from the unexpected intensity. A hit of pleasure injects directly into my bloodstream, instantly drugging me. My muscles go lax as Byron eats like a starved man. The wet noises would probably embarrass me if I could focus. I’m mindless under his influence.
And then he zeroes in on my clit. A surge of tingles detonates, spreading in a throbbing wave.
The impact seizes me and I drop the knife.
It clatters to the ground as I knock Byron’s hat off his head.
My fingers tunnel into his hair to get a grip.
I use that as an anchor while he aims to destroy me.
“Fuck,” I choke out. “It feels too good.”
But that’s a massive understatement. My entire body feels plugged in and cranked to the max. Even the skin covering my elbows thrums to the tempo of his unrelenting onslaught. He licks me faster, swerving around my clit at a speed that makes me dizzy.
“You’re so smooth.” He pauses to explore the intimate area like a treasure hunter without a map. “Did you shave for me again? I didn’t get to ask last time.”
My snort tapers off into a whine. “I wax, and don’t kid yourself. My pubic hair has been routinely ripped from its roots long before I met you.”
“But this silky pussy is mine now.”
“Only if you quit with the social hour.”
“Apologies.”
There’s humor in his voice, but I don’t get the chance to reprimand him. He resumes his dedication with several devastating swipes across my clit before tugging it between his teeth. The suction he adds next might do me in.
I curl my toes as tension overwhelms me. The rasp of his beard strokes my hunger. That friction isn’t enough. My grasp on his hair yanks harder and I begin grinding against him. Pressure expands with every jerky motion. I’m stimulated to the extreme. Almost there.
“If you stop, I’ll kill you,” I croak.
Muffled laughter tempts me. “Never gonna happen.”
“Less talking. More eating.”
His moan is rich and decadent. “My mouth is full of your pussy. I’d love nothing more than to drown in you.”
Byron rolls his tongue in a certain way, shooting stars across my vision.
When he slides a finger inside me, I’m thrown over the edge.
The release isn’t quiet or kind. I thrash against the climatic burst. Spasms quake my limbs as liquid fire rushes through my veins.
A shriek wrenches free while I surrender to sensation.
All the while, Byron continues working me over to drain every drop.
This is more than an orgasm. It’s an awakening. There are tremors in places I can’t name. I’ll never be the same again. The broody cowboy has tainted me worse than before.
“Damn,” I wheeze. My throat is a sandy beach after gasping uncontrollably.
I can’t see straight. I’m strung out on his tongue. That’s my only excuse for allowing another piece of my guard to crumble and remain present.
A cautious glance at the man responsible steals what little composure I was able to gather. My arousal coats Byron’s lips in a natural gloss. It looks like he’s fresh from the feast and I love it.
A pleased sound rumbles from him. He kisses my inner thigh, peering up at me with fierce possession. I’d think he was in the mood to eat me up if he didn’t already.
“Happy New Year, little menace.”
“Right back at ya, stud.”
Byron breathes a laugh. “Can I take you home?”
I’d agree to just about anything right now, but my reputation is hanging on by a thread. “Do that again and I’ll consider it.”