Chapter 3: Raw and Hungry

“Oh my God.” I gripped his broad shoulders. His lips followed the descent of my underwear, kissing each new spot of my flesh he revealed.

I was going to explode. Burst into a million pieces and flutter to the ground like burnt confetti. His mouth inched along the top of my slit, and something like panic gurgled in my system. I wasn’t supposed to do this, but dear God, how I craved the slippery slide of his tongue, desperate for him to go lower.

I moaned and arched off the desk as I got my wish. The tip of his tongue brushed over me. Cautious. Curious. My reaction must have left no doubt in his mind what I wanted, because his second pass wasn’t hesitant. The full sensation of his tongue against my clit tore a gasp from my lungs.

He looked incredible hunched over me, delivering his wicked, intimate kiss. The sharp angles of his face and the dark fall of his hair framed his expression—focused, hungry, like he was devouring me in the best way. Pleasure was so sharp and overwhelming that I couldn’t do anything but stay there and take it.

It had never felt like this before. Was this how it was supposed to be?

Damian had been the only guy to go down on me. He’d done it a few times, usually when I wasn’t turned on enough to have sex, and although he never said it outright, his attitude left me feeling like he was doing me some monumental favor. It had always felt clinical, like a means to an end.

But this—this was something else entirely.

The stranger didn’t act like he was doing me a favor. He acted like he was taking pleasure in it, like it was something he wanted as much as I did. I threaded my hands through his dark hair, gripping tight as I shook, my body strung tight as a bowstring. His eyes were closed, but his expression was pure bliss, like he was enjoying this almost as much as I was.

His tongue was soft, but firm, caressing and stroking, sending my heart rate into overdrive. I grew lightheaded from how hard I was breathing and the waves of heat that traveled up my body. Pinpricks of bliss crept over my skin.

A low, deep groan came from him, vibrating against me. A bolt of white-hot pleasure seized me as his lips closed and sucked, and my fists tightened around the edges of the desk beneath me. The stroke of his tongue was insanity. He used his lips, his tongue, and even his teeth—just a faint hint—to tease, torment, and please.

I swallowed huge gulps of air, struggling to keep up with him. His tongue lashed at my clit, and every muscle in me shook. I was going to rattle apart. The sight of his mouth working over me was so sexy, I moaned again.

“The noises you make,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, “they’re driving me crazy.”

I couldn’t stop the whimper that followed.

Heat crawled over my skin as I drew closer to satisfaction. His fluttering tongue built me into a frenzy. I tilted my head back, biting my bottom lip, trying to keep the sounds from spilling out, but it was useless.

My challenge grew impossible when his mouth paused, and he stirred two fingertips over my clit, teasing, circling. I opened my eyes to watch him, which was a huge mistake. His raw, hungry expression made another moan fall from my lips.

The fingers drifted lower, one pressing inside me. My mouth rounded into a silent “oh” as he slid deeper. Just one thick finger, but my body threatened to break apart.

I clutched at the desk beneath me—like having a physical handle on something would help. The sensation was too intense. I wanted to control it, but I’d have better luck holding back the waves of the ocean.

He had his mouth on me, and part of him was inside my body. Claiming me. It made me want more. I shouldn’t, but I wanted all of him.

That thought was my undoing.

“Shit,” I groaned, locking up as the orgasm surged. Heat flooded through my veins, searing my nerves. I shattered into a million pieces while pleasure roared up and down my body, leaving me cold and flushed as it subsided.

I blinked sluggishly, staring up at the high, carved ceiling of the library as the blood rushing in my ears slowed. My mouth was no longer attached to my brain, and the words stumbled out of me.

“I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

Embarrassment made me squeeze my eyes shut tight. Why the hell had I said that out loud?

He didn’t seem to mind. He leaned over, and his kisses began at my collarbone, skimming up. When our mouths fused again, and our bare skin pressed tight together, there wasn’t room to feel anything else but him.

I hooked my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind his back, and sank deeper into the kiss. It was full of fire, full of need.

“Do you want to stop?” His voice was rough, strained with want. “Because I want something I shouldn’t.” His forehead pressed to mine, his breath warm against my lips. “It’s all I want whenever you’re around.”

My mouth fell open on an audible gasp. How was I supposed to respond to that? The words knocked the air out of me.

The warning in my mind flared sharp and white-hot. I shoved it aside. I’d always done the right thing, always been careful. But for once, I wanted to feel alive. I wanted him.

“Then take it,” I whispered.

His lips crushed mine, and everything else fell away.

Somehow, between our passionate, greedy kisses and wandering hands, I found myself backed up against one of the shelves. His hands cupped my breasts and pushed them together, making it easier for him to run his lips and tongue from one aching nipple to the other, and back again.

Shivers shook my shoulders. I skimmed my hand over the waistband of his pants, lingering at the button, just enough to threaten what I was thinking about doing. How much further I was willing to go.

I clawed my unsteady fingers at his zipper and then shoved the pants down over his hips.

For a split second, I marveled at how soft his underwear was. Rich, black fabric covered him but did nothing to hide his dick straining beneath. He gave a quiet hiss of pleasure as I smoothed my palm over the long, thick length of him. Jesus, he was big.

I didn’t get more than a few pumps before he attacked my panties, wrenching them down my legs.

He stepped out of his pants as he lifted me up, seating me on the edge of the library desk, my panties a puddle left on the floor.

The tension between us grew infinitely greater and more serious. We were both down to just our underwear. My heart threatened to beat out of my chest, but I didn’t care. All I needed was his mouth fused to me, his bare skin touching mine.

With a light shove, he pushed me down on my back, the polished wood of the desk cool against my heated skin. He stepped between my legs and followed me down, trailing kisses over my throat and down between my breasts, all while grinding his lower body against mine. Sparks of pleasure roared from the contact.

Desire hazed the room.

It took control of me and sent my hands roaming over his skin. His back was strong, and I loved skimming the muscles and the hollow of his spine. He was so fucking powerful. So different from anything I’d had before.

It seemed like he wasn’t sure what to do next. Not that he was hesitant, but more like he wanted to do everything all at once. He glided the length of his erection over the damp crotch of my panties, and I arched, bucking up into him.

He straightened, smoothing his hands down my curves until they came to a stop on the sides of my panties. His gaze traveled the length of my body, lingering on my exposed breasts before settling back on my eyes. The connection between us was sharp and taut.

“Stop me,” he said, making it clear this was my last chance.

I bit down on my bottom lip and gave the tiniest shake of my head.

“Fuck.” He whispered it as he began to drag the panties down and nuzzled his face into the cradle of my lap.