The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

“Go to bed, Stormy,” she commanded the pup, and the dog whined unhappily. “Go on. Good girl.”

Stormy whined again. She turned away despondently and trudged out of the kitchen.

“Charity, focus,” Miles sounded equal parts amused and exasperated, and Charity buried her fingers in his hair and dragged his head down until his lips were a hairsbreadth from hers.

“I dare you to get on your knees and make me come with your tongue. In under two minutes.”

“Two minutes? I’ll get it done in a minute.”

“You turned my dare into a bet,” she protested.

“Whatever. I’m going win it.”

He sank to his knees in front of her, lifted her skirt, palmed one of her thighs, and unceremoniously hitched it over his shoulder. The move allowed him easier access to the aching heat between her legs. In an attempt to maintain her balance, she planted her hands on the kitchen sink behind her.

He was hidden beneath her skirt, and she couldn’t see what he was doing, but oh God could she feel it. He used his thumbs to part her folds, and she shuddered at the first touch of his tongue on her rigid, throbbing clit.

Charity’s head fell back, and her pelvis tilted forward.

She heard him swearing shakily before he went to work.

“Oh, oh! Oh, yes. Miles. Right there. Right…” She had never been very vocal during sex but for some reason she always found herself encouraging him, talking to him, telling him what she liked. How she liked it.

He lapped at her, like a cat drinking up the richest cream. And it was heavenly.

He won the bet, because after a few strokes of his tongue, she was on the verge…and when he clamped his lips over her aching bud and sucked, she was wrecked.

She was still spasming violently when he got up and hastily undid his trousers to release himself.

Soon her butt was braced on the edge of the sink, and her legs were wrapped around his waist while he pounded into her. She came again, and then again…and was on the verge of a fourth climax when he swore.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot the condom.” He withdrew and gripped himself tightly as he tried to stave off his orgasm.

Charity didn’t think about it. She was on her knees and had him in her mouth before either of them could take another breath.

“Fuck!” He cupped her head, and she lifted her eyes to stare into his straining face. “Jesus. I can’t…Charity. I can’t…”

She smiled at him around his length before closing her eyes and sucking him deeply into her mouth and down her throat. She relished the salty sweet taste of him, the size of him…one of her hands crept up to the rigid muscles of his abdomen and the other cupped the smooth, heavy sac at the base of his penis.

He groaned. The sound was long and low and helpless. And, knowing she had him right on the verge, she withdrew until she had only the tip of him in her mouth and scraped at the sensitive underside of his glans with her teeth.

He muffled a cry and came. Copiously, almost violently. His entire body remained in spasm while he emptied himself into her mouth.

And Charity, who had pretty much despised this act during her marriage, moved a hand to the sensitive, throbbing spot between her legs and strummed herself to completion.

She wasn’t sure how it happened, but they wound up sitting side by side on the floor, backs braced against the dishwasher. His arm was curled around her shoulders, and her head was slumped on his still heaving chest.

“That was fucking phenomenal,” he said.

“It truly was. And well done on winning the bet.”

He chuckled, sounding drained.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cole. I do strive to please.” He paused for a beat before adding, “Well…I guess that takes care of dinner for both of us.”

Charity choked. She lifted her head to stare at him incredulously and burst into laughter.