Hooked (Never After, #1)(35)

Annoyance flickers in my chest, but I pull back, raising a brow. “Alright.”

Her fingers twist together as she stares down at her lap—something I’ve realized she does whenever she’s nervous.

“What do you do for a living?”

The question surprises me. I foolishly assumed that if she hadn’t asked by now, she wouldn’t. I lean back, my arms spanning the length of the couch. “I’m a businessman.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, so is my father. But I mean, what do you do?”

The mention of her father sparks a blaze inside of me, and I’m suddenly desperate to know everything about him from her point of view. “Your father?”

“Ugh.” She palms her face. “I wasn’t actually planning on talking about him. But yeah. He’s a ‘businessman.’”

“Oh.” I run my tongue over my teeth. “Maybe I’ve worked with him.”

She shrugs. “Maybe. He’s pretty well known.”

“Who is he?” I put great effort into keeping my voice low and steady, my nerves dancing like pop rocks under my skin.

“Peter Michaels.”

Pushing a hand through my hair, I sigh. “Never heard of him.”

Her eyes widen, but I don’t miss the way her shoulders drop, as if she’s been relieved of a weight. “Really? That’s kind of… surprising.”

My fingers rub at my jawline. “Is it? I’m sorry I’m not as versed as I should be then.”

Her grin grows, her upper body leaning toward me. “I like that you don’t know. I was so worried about telling you, to be honest. I didn’t want your opinion of me to change.”

I snap forward, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her the rest of the way into me. She whooshes out a breath as her body lands on mine, her ample breasts pressing deliciously into my chest. “Darling, no one on this earth could change my opinion of you. I’m afraid it’s already set in stone.”

She lifts her head, her lips centimeters from mine. “What is it then?”

“My opinion?” My mouth dips down to skim across her neck, my hand reaching behind her head to tangle in the strands of her silky hair. “I can show you if you’d like.”

Her breathing stutters as I tighten my grip and tug, the expanse of her neck elongating. I press kisses up the column of her throat, making my way back to her lips. The taste of her invades my senses, need spiraling through my center and heating my blood.

She moans, her hips pressing against my shaft through the thin material of my pants, creating a friction that has pinpricks of pleasure skittering up my spine. I release her mouth and lay back, allowing her to start up a rhythm. She’s teasing me. Torturing me, but god does she look a vision. Her blue dress is bunched at her hips, lips rosy red to match her cheeks, and eyes half lidded as they look down on me.

My fingers release the strands of her hair, my arm wrapping around her as I sit up, our bodies suddenly flush against each other.

Our noses brush as I thrust into her panty-covered center. I suck in her breath and take it as my own, pressing my lips to hers. She moans, her arms curling around my neck, a sharp sting radiating through my mouth as the taste of copper floods my taste buds. I jerk back, my thumb brushing across my bottom lip, coming away with red. She bit me.

Normally, the sight of my own blood makes me retch, but for some reason, arousal floods my system. My arm tightens around her waist as I slide forward, my lips molding to hers, the taste of my blood mixing with her saliva. She sucks on my tongue as if she wants to swallow me whole, and I groan, pushing her down on the couch, my hips settling between her thighs.

I break away from her lips, moving my mouth to her ear. My palm wraps around her throat and squeezes. “Are you going to let me see that pretty pussy?”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, hips pressing up to meet mine. My fingers drift from her neck, down her torso to meet her core, my hand wrapping around the center of her cotton panties and pulling until they snap off her frame. Her inhale is audible, and it makes my cock throb, desperate to feel her from the inside.

Tossing the torn fabric behind me, I push her thighs apart, my nose running up her glistening slit. A groan rumbles in my throat. She smells delectable. Like musk, and woman, and everything pure, as if her pheromones were bred just for me. My mouth waters with the need to taste her while she comes apart underneath me.

I move toward her opening, lapping at the wetness that’s seeping from her center, coating my tongue with her taste.

She giggles, her fingers wrapping around the strands of my hair. “That tickles, James.”

I grin against her, my arm pressing down across her stomach firmly. “Stop moving, pet.”

My fingers slip into her at the same time I suck her swollen clit into my mouth, feeling it pulse on my tongue. Her body jerks under my arm, and I pin her down tighter, my hips pressing into the couch cushion to relieve the ache throbbing in my cock.

She’s tight, and precum leaks from my tip as I imagine how it will feel when her walls are hugging the thickness of my shaft instead of sucking on my fingers. I have a sneaking suspicion she’s a virgin, and the thought of being the first man to have her—the one who will ruin her for all others—makes me ravenous to destroy her body, mind, and soul.

I continue to pump my digits, wetness coating my hand from her dripping pussy. My arm lifts from her torso, moving up until it wraps around her neck, my fingers tapping against the pulse of her heart.