A Perfect Ten (Forbidden Men #5)

“Fuck, this is...” He arched up his hips and simultaneously pushed down on my head with the grip he had on my hair. When I started to gag, he instantly let up pressure. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to...Jesus. It’s just so fucking good. Who knew actually seeing someone go down on me makes it so much hotter. Or maybe it’s just you. Watching you.”

I sucked on him a little harder and took him deep into my throat. He shouted out another unintentional sound. Gripping the sheets beside us with his hand that wasn’t buried in my hair, he seemed to be bracing for the grand finale. “I’m coming.” His voice was strained and his fingers were like iron, clamped in my hair. “Caroline, I’m—shit.”

He tried to tug me off him, giving me plenty of fair warning, but I didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted all of him. I moaned at the pressure on my locks and applied more suction as I stroked him faster.

The stream of curses that left him when he flooded my mouth was so filthy and delicious, I reached down and touched myself as he came.

For a moment, he was too shocked and sated to realize what I was doing. But when he noticed I was trying to get myself off too, his eyes flared.

“Oh, I don’t fucking think so.” Grasping my wrist, he ripped my fingers away from the throbbing wet spot between my legs. Then he flipped me onto my back and climbed on top of me. “Last night, it was hot when I knew you were touching yourself, but two nights in a row just makes me think I’m not doing my job. This is my pussy, woman. No fingers touch this clit but mine.”

His thumb instantly found me and began to massage without mercy, sending me to an immediate peak. I cried out and arched under him. “No tongue laps up this cream but mine.”

He leaned in, and I couldn’t help it, I gripped his hair in my hands, so eager to feel his mouth on me, I almost couldn’t take it. “Oren.”

He paused right before contact and glanced up. “And no one calls me that but you.”

I loved the way he claimed ownership of me, but more than that, I loved the way he gave ownership right back to me. As soon as his warm, wet tongue touched me, I came.

I don’t know how much time passed. I think I drifted in and out of sleep for a while as I lay limp and satiated against him. The sweat from our bodies was still drying as we clung together, but I knew he was awake because his fingers kept stroking up and down my spine. Occasionally, they dipped down farther than usual on his descent until he reached my ass and he’d cup a globe in one of his warm palms, but then a second later, he was on the move again, caressing his way back up the center of my vertebrae.

“I should probably go before I fall asleep,” I murmured, too liquid limp to move. He didn’t answer, didn’t try to get me to stay, so I blew out a disappointed breath and sat up.

But when I tried to crawl off the mattress, he grasped my wrist. I glanced down at him, my heart thumping hard in my chest.

Instead of asking me to stay, though, he said, “You don’t have a car.”

I blinked. “Huh?” I knew I didn’t have a car.

He shot upright, his face flaring with anger. “Are you fucking insane? How the hell have you been getting here and home each night? Don’t tell me you’ve been walking, because what is that, twenty blocks, between your place and mine?”

I cleared my throat discreetly. “Okay,” I said. “I won’t tell you that, then.”

He closed his eyes and growled. “Caroline. What the fuck?”

“The first night, I had Aspen’s car. And besides, it’s only eighteen blocks, not twenty.”

“Oh. Well, thank God,” he muttered, not sounding relieved at all. “Because those two less blocks make it sound so much safer. I cannot freaking believe you. Don’t you ever—ever—put yourself in that kind of danger again just to see me.”

“Excuse me?” My back straightened self-righteously at his demanding tone. “Don’t tell me what to do. I can take care of myself.” I set my hands on my hips and glared at him as he jumped from the bed and began viciously ripping clothes off the floor and jerking them on. “I took a credit hour of self-defense training last semester, plus I’m always armed with mace, a whistle, and Noel set me up with one of those nifty Taser things.”

Fully dressed, he slapped a ball cap onto his head and grabbed his wallet and cell phone off his dresser. “Well, that makes me feel half a percent better.” He frowned at me where I was still sitting in nothing but his sheet. Then he clapped his hands. “Let’s get going already.”