Page 47 of Savior

He flashes a wicked grin. “That’s kinda the point, sugar.” His lips paint a hot descent down my stomach. “Now hush, I’m tryin’ to concentrate.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the sensory overload. If he concentrates any harder, my panties are going to wave a white flag and spontaneously combust. When I open them again, a flash of heat so intense washes over me and for a moment, I think maybe they did. Then I realize, it’s just the intensity of his gaze on me causing me to burn up from the inside out.

He pulls his lip between his teeth and laves it with his tongue. If I weren’t already soaking wet, just watching his obvious enjoyment would have me drenched. His eyes flick to mine and then he rests his weight on one arm. A tentative finger traces the line of lace at my waistband, then down and around the curve of my leg, coming so close to the place that’s aching for him. His hand moves down my leg, then back up, across my waistband and to the other side where his fingers dip beneath the cloth.

With a deft movement, he lifts my hips enough to slide the material to the side. Any opening for embarrassment disappears as his fingers trace lightly over me. His head angles and he nibbles on the inside of my thigh, his breath fanning over my leg.

When his attention returns, he moves, shifting even farther down. He glances up at me, his eyes wild and stormy. “Keep ahold of that table,” he says. “I’m gonna eat you till you come, but you don’t let go. Understand?”

My lips are dry and I’m afraid if I speak, my voice will quake, so I just nod. I’m caught in a whirlwind, and he’s at the eye of the storm. All I can do is ride it out.

His shoulders settle between my legs, and I only have a second to prepare before he tongue is on me. I arch, trying to get away from the tumultuous sensations rocketing through me, but there’s nowhere for me to go. He pins my hips to the couch with one arm as his tongue assaults me with lethal precision.

Sounds come from deep within my chest, sounds I don’t recognize and have no control over. Wood scrapes across the floor and I realize faintly I’m pulling the table in an effort to strain toward the ecstasy I know is inevitable.

I glance down and find him watching me. There is something so erotic about him between my legs, seeing him, feeling him, is almost more than I can handle. Then he sucks two fingers into his mouth and with my eyes on him, he slides them into me on one long, wet stroke that has me seeing white.

Then his lips and tongue are on me again and the combination of the insistent flicks of his tongue and the wet drag of his fingers inches me up the arduous climb toward nirvana.

My hips roll up to meet him and meet the resistance of his arm. Frustrated, I buck and he lifts his head, lips gleaming and twisted into a satisfied grin.

“Sienna,” he chastises and licks his lips.

“What are you doing? Don’t stop!”

“I thought you said you didn’t like the wait?”

I twist my head from side to side and reach for him, but he bats my hands away. “I love the wait. Love it. Please don’t stop.”

His shifts and hovers over me, his fingers going back to the spot and rolling until I’m writhing once more underneath him. “Don’t stop this?” he growls in my ear, then takes my mouth, his kiss a hot temptation that tastes of me. “God, you’re so wet,” he says against my lips.

I can’t resist touching him anymore and my arms go around his shoulders. His fingers abandon my clit and slide inside me, working me in a frenetic pace. Unable to focus on anything else, my head falls back to the couch and I tense in anticipation.

He leans back enough so he can see me, his face still inches from mine. Close enough for me to watch the naked hunger sharpening his gaze. Hunger for me. His fingers slow, sensing that I’ve reached the edge and he brings his lips back to mine for and endless open-mouthed kiss. I’m arching up to meet him, thrusting my hips up to his hand, clutching at his wrist and going absolutely wild when his phone starts vibrating in the pocket next to my thigh.

He curses, his body one long live wire of tense muscle alongside and above me.

I throw myself backward, the illusive climax draining away leaving me bereft, wanting, and exhausted. He moves back and his hand regrettably moves away. We both take a mental step back and I scoot up into a sitting position. The call is only an all too vivid of a reminder of all the things I am trying to escape.

Logan yanks the phone out of his pocket and swipes, pressing it to his ear. He pulls a throw off the back of the couch and covers me with it, sending me a look full of remorse that I’m sure my own face mirrors.

“Blackwell,” he says into the phone as he gets to his feet.

My eyes are drawn to his pants, where a thick bulge presses against the material, which only intensifies the disappointment.

Since my ears are still buzzing from the missed orgasm, I don’t hear the conversation, but the look on Logan’s face says it all.

Logan

Acold fury fills me. Not only for the interruption, the senseless violence of the crime I now have to investigate, but the haunted look that returns to Sienna’s eyes the moment I hang up the phone.

Before I can say anything, she gets to her feet and wraps the blanket around her body like another shield. “Go,” she says, her hands gripping the blanket between her breasts. “It’s okay.”

I cross the distance and crowd her. “No, it’s not.” I kiss her firmly until the tension melts from her shoulders. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

She presses her hands to my chest so she can put some distance between us and shakes her head. “What? Why?”

“I’m not going to leave you alone here until we find out what’s going on with your ex. I wouldn’t leave you right now if I didn’t have to.”