Page 42 of Protected By the Sinner

I pull her panties off and slip them into my pocket. I’m starving. Crazy for her taste.

I place her long legs over my shoulders, and she lifts her dress eagerly.

“Watch,” I command.

I part her folds with my fingers and start licking her slowly, torturing her. She squirms, but I press a hand to her stomach to hold her in place.

I suck on her clit and fuck her lightly with my tongue and a finger, pausing now and then to bite her swollen lips and the insides of her thighs.

She moans, calling out my name like I told her she would, but even when she comes, I don’t stop.

“I can’t take it anymore.”

“I’m nowhere near done.”

I feast on her, trying to memorize her flavor, never getting enough of that hot honey in my mouth.

“You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that,” she says when she comes again.

“No, I’m going to fuck you real good when we get home.”

“I want all of it, Beau. And it has to be with you.”

A warning bell goes off in my head, reminding me this wasn’t part of the plan—this connection between us—but I shut it out. I don’t want to be rational right now. All that matters is our bodies giving in to desire and this fever running through me.

I’m ready to go again when I feel the car come to a stop.

She’s lying there with her eyes closed, spent, trusting, and once again, a feeling I didn’t authorize takes hold of me.

I pull her dress down and gather her into my lap.

Amber is smiling, and it’s so rare that I just sit there, looking at her.

She pulls my face in for a kiss, and the moment our lips touch, I think she tastes herself on me, because she pulls back and looks at me, smiling wider before licking my mouth.

“You like that?”

She nods.

Fuck, the shameless way she embraces sex drives me insane.

Using every ounce of willpower not to lay her down again and fuck her right here, I step out of the car and help her out.

She cuddles against me as we walk like it’s nothing, not caring about the bodyguards I know are eyeing her.

I’m a man—I’ve seen how they look at her. But if they want to stay alive, they’d better keep it to just looking.

The second the door closes, I pick her up and carry her upstairs.

Before we even reach the bedroom, she pulls me in for a kiss, and the madness between us, which had only quieted for a moment, comes roaring back.

I walk us into the room, not bothering to lock the door, my eyes devouring her body with urgency, our hands desperate, mouths never parting. I toss off my tux jacket and unzip her dress at the same time.

“Leave the shoes on,” I say as I help her out of the dress.

She takes a step back—sexy as hell—no panties, high heels, wearing only the diamond earrings I gave her earlier. She looks at me like she can’t wait another second to touch me.

Same here.