With This Fling (Summersweet Island 5)

When he moves his free hand off my thigh and it goes to undo the last button on my shorts, that bucket of cold water that ruined the moment a few minutes ago dumps all over me once more. I pull back away from him and let out a frustrated huff that he keeps distracting me.

“I don’t give two shits about a condom, although it’s lovely you’re prepared,” I quickly speak before I lose my nerve or he uses that mouth to distract me again. “I need my purse, because there is a small bottle of lube in there. Believe me—this will be much more pleasurable for both of us if I go get it.”

One of Dean’s eyebrows quirks up at me, and I see the corner of his mouth twitching with the need to smile. I roll my eyes.

“Look, I’m no spring chicken. There are certain ailments that come with being a woman my age, and one of those ailments is being as dry as the Sahara Desert, no matter how much what you’re doing to me turns me on, and no matter how much I want you to flip me over this desk and… what was it you said? Fuck the hell out of me?”

I try to add a little humor to this mortifying moment, but Dean doesn’t smile. With other guys, I’ve had to stealthily excuse myself and go to the bathroom to take care of this little problem, and they were none the wiser. But we’ve decided to drop the bullshit, and this is as bullshitty as it gets. Menopause can eat a dick.

Dean’s hand just wraps right around the back of my neck again, and he tugs me forward, latching his mouth to mine. He kisses me until I’m breathless and then quickly pulls away again. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be necessary.” He grins at me as I sigh, grabbing both of my hands and pulling me off the edge of the desk until I’m standing on my feet in front of him.

“I can appreciate your arrogance, but this is science.” I reach up and pat his chest to try to soften the blow to his ego.

“You’re adorable” is all Dean says.

He kisses the tip of my nose, and then every thought in my head leaves me with a gasp when he immediately drops to his knees in front of me, hooking his fingers in the waist of my unbuttoned shorts, and dragging them down my legs right along with my underwear as he goes.

“The shoes stay on,” he orders, making my goddamn dry vagina clench as I step out of my shorts, and my red heels click-clack against the floor.

He tosses my shorts to the side, grabs my hips, and deposits me back on the edge of Ed’s desk. My thighs are roughly jerked open wider with his palms, and a low growl rumbles out of Dean’s chest when his face is right in front of my bare pussy. I feel that growl from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

My eyes start to flutter closed, and my head tries to drop back, but Dean grips tighter to my spread thighs.

“Nope. Eyes stay open. You’re gonna watch while I make you wet enough to take my cock.”

Sweet mother of God….

I’m leaning back on the desk on my hands, but before I can fully brace myself, Dean makes good on his cocky promise. He buries his head between my legs, dragging his tongue through my center with one… long… slow swipe.

“Jesus,” Dean mutters against my heated core as I pant, staring down at him. “I knew you’d fucking taste like sugar.”

And then he stops speaking, and I just completely forget how, when his mouth goes right back where it was. He kisses between my thighs like he kissed my mouth, licking and sucking with long, firm strokes, making me wet with his lips and tongue, and wet with my need for him in the blink of an eye. His hands slide over my thighs and under my ass, tugging me up off the desk and fitting me more snuggly against his mouth, and I forget my own name.

“Oh, God… Jesus… holy shit….”

I don’t even know what words are coming out of me as one of my hands flies off the desk to fist a handful of his hair between my fingers, tugging him closer, my body rocking against his mouth as he works me over. He alternates between long, languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks of it back and forth over my clit—like he’s done this to me a thousand times before and knows exactly how my body works. I can’t take my eyes off him while he feasts on me. It just makes everything hotter, more intense, and before I know it, he’s pushing me right over the edge.

I’m coming against his mouth so hard and so fast that I should probably be embarrassed, but I’m too busy shouting his name, trying to rip his hair out by the roots with how hard I’m gripping it. The added sting of his facial hair moving against me along with his mouth heightens everything as I jerk my hips, and my orgasm pulses against his talented tongue.

I haven’t even fully come down from whatever planet he just sent me to before he’s quickly standing up between my thighs again.

“You can just wipe that smile right off your face. I was—”

The rest of whatever I was going to say to him is cut off when, once again, his hand wraps around the back of my neck, and he tugs my face to his. His kiss is quick and hard, just a firm swipe of his tongue through my mouth, making me taste myself on him and reminding me that he has every reason to be cocky right now.

Wrenching his mouth away from mine, the grin on his face is gone and is replaced with fire. My heart starts thundering in my chest as I watch him take a step back from me and unbutton his jeans. My tongue darts out to wet my lips when he pushes the front of them down just enough for his cock to spring out. A whimper flies out of me, and I already want him again when he fists that thick, hard length in his hand. I reach out toward him, but he quickly swats my hand away.

“You touch me right now and I’m gonna come before I’m even inside you,” he growls, and I swear to God I have another mini orgasm when hard, demanding Dean comes back out to play. “Turn around. Hands on the desk, ass in the air.”

I’m scrambling off the desk, doing as I’m told without a moment’s hesitation, wondering who the hell I even am right now. I’ve always been the more dominant one in any sexual encounter I’ve had. It just comes naturally, because I’m a bossy person, and I usually prefer it like that. The way my breath is coming out of me in gasping pants, wanting him to order me around again, tells me I’ve been doing this all wrong for far too long. I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper being quickly ripped open, the shuffling of his hands, and then the heat from Dean’s body is surrounding me again, crowding me against the desk, his cock pressing against my ass.

“Hard or slow, sugar? What do you need?”

“Yes,” I answer on a sigh, feeling the rumble of Dean’s laughter against my back, everything inside me melting into a puddle of goo with just those last four simple words.

My hair is quickly wrapped around his fist again, and my head is tugged to the side again. His head drops down to attach his mouth to the side of my neck, lining his cock up with my entrance as his other arm snakes around my waist. I have just enough time to moan in appreciation when his teeth nip the skin of my neck, and then he just fucks right into me. A quick, rough thrust of his hips and he slides right in, because of course he does after what he just did to me and what he continues to do to me just by being him.

“Jesus Christ… you’re gonna fucking ruin me, aren’t you?” Dean mutters, holding himself still deep inside me, panting against the side of my neck.