CHAPTER 79

CHAPTER 79
"So who do you want, Paty?"

She licks her lips—nervous, sweet—and I nearly lose it.

But I wait.

I fucking wait.

Her gaze flicks to my mouth, then back to mine.

"You," she breathes. "I want you."

And that is all I fucking need. She meets me halfway.

Her mouth is warm, tentative.

I savor it, letting my lips move slow against hers, learning her kiss like it’s a language only we speak.

She gasps, and my heart lurches.

I pull back an inch—just to see her.

Make sure she’s real.

But that awe in her gaze strips me bare, and I’m gone.

I kiss her harder.

No hesitation. No patience.

The second kiss is wild. Hungry. Starving.

She moans, and I lick into her, swallowing every broken, needy sound.

She fists my shirt, dragging me closer.

My hands roam—her jaw, her hair, the slope of her waist—burning her into me.

I groan when she tugs my hair.

She kisses me back just as desperately.

Open-mouthed. Messy. Glorious.

She shifts—swings one leg over my lap, straddling me.

Like she was made to fit right here, thighs tight around my hips.

And fuck, she’s grinding against me.

Slow at first—but the friction lights me up.

I’m hard. Painfully.

Her hips roll just right, and I feel how soaked she is through those thin fucking leggings.

It’s a miracle I don’t come.

I drop my forehead to hers—both of us panting—and slide my hands down to cup her ass, anchoring her to me.

She shudders when I grind again.

I kiss her throat, her jaw, her racing pulse.

"Tell me," I rasp, voice shredded. "Tell me you want this, Lollipop."

Tell me I’m not dreaming.

Tell me you’re mine.

She presses tighter to me, lips brushing my ear.

"Yes," she gasps. "God, yes."

And that’s it.

The last fucking thread holding me together.

I slide my hand around her waist, the other at her neck, guiding her down onto the couch like she’s something precious and mine.

Her legs wrap around me, pulling me into the heat of her body.

I kiss her like I need her to fucking breathe.

My hips grind down, the hard ridge of my cock sliding over the soaked heat of her pussy, our clothes doing jack shit to stop it.

This sweet, broken little sound escapes her and arches into me.

That fucking arch.

It guts me.

I’m so gone for her it’s not even funny.

I cup her ass, squeeze hard, drag her closer, grind where she needs it.

The way she moans—breathless, needy—makes my cock throb.

I could stay here all night, devouring her mouth, teasing her clit, but I want all of her.

I tear my mouth from hers, kiss down her neck, her collarbone.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, her legs tightening like she’s scared I’ll stop.

Not a fucking chance.

I kiss down her stomach, heat rolling off her skin.

I need to taste her. Not as a masked stranger. As me.

I hook my fingers in her leggings and panties and yank them down, freeing one trembling leg.

Her thighs fall open. No hesitation. No shame.

And the look on her face—Jesus.

Cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes heavy with lust.

It wrecks me.

Makes me feral.

I drop to my knees and spread her open, staring at the glistening pink of her like it’s the Holy fucking Grail.

Breathing deep, I lean in and lick her.

One slow stroke from her dripping entrance to her clit.

‘Roger.” Her back arches, and I clamp her thighs to keep her still.

I groan into her, nuzzling deeper, devouring her like it’s the first real meal I’ve ever had.

"You have to be quiet," I murmur, voice rough and full of wicked promises. "Can’t have anyone hearing how sweet you sound when you come."

She fists the cushion, covering her mouth to smother the sounds.

I lick her again—slow and teasing, flattening my tongue over her clit.

Then I suck it between my lips—soft, then harder—letting my tongue flick over her until her thighs start to tremble around my head.

"Fuck, Paty," I growl, my voice vibrating through her. "You taste divine."

She gasps—louder now—and I ease up, chuckling darkly against her soaked cunt.

"Quiet, or I stop," I tease, nipping her inner thigh before sliding two fingers into her without warning.

She cries out, both hands flying to her mouth. Her hips buck, and I groan at her tight heat clenching around my fingers.

"So fucking tight," I pant, curling my fingers until her whole body seizes.

"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?"

She whispers.

“At our office,” I murmur, swirling my tongue around her clit. “Where anyone could walk in and see you like this.”

She begs. “Please.”

Rolls her hips into my mouth. “Roger.”

I lick her harder, faster, syncing with my fingers until she’s gasping, sobbing, body stiffening.

"That’s it," I croon. "That’s my girl. Come for me, Lollipop. I need it."

And when she does—Jesus Christ—she falls apart.

Legs clamping around my head, body shaking, wetness flooding my mouth.

I keep going until she’s boneless and trembling.

Only then do I pull back, licking my lips, savoring every drop.

I look up at her—spread out, flushed, chest heaving. My heart fucking bursts at the sight of her.

Christ, she’s never looked more beautiful.

Across the room, Dexter yawns.

I glance over. “He’s looking at us.”

She does too, a smirk curving her mouth. “If you only knew what he’s seen?—”

Before she can finish, she grabs my shirt and pulls me down with her.

“I want all of you,” she whispers, breathless.

Her eyes flicker open—bright, wild, certain. “It’s been a long time. And I need it to be you.”

Fuck.