Page 114 of The Holiday Clause

He scooted down and pulled her to his chest. “I want to eat your pussy.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Get your sexy ass up here.” He tugged her forward.

“Greyson, I can’t!” Her face burned. “I’ll suffocate you and—ahhh!”

He yanked her to his mouth, latching onto her clit before she could utter another excuse. With a jerk of her hips, he forced her to sit on him, his tongue stabbing into her with deep, hungry licks.

“So fucking delicious.” He dug his fingers into her ass, and she caught her weight on the arm of the couch.

“I don’t think?—“

“Stop thinking.” His words vibrated hot and muffled against her sex. “I want you coming down my throat.”

Wide-eyed, she gaped at the empty room. Who was this man?

“Oh, my gosh.” Pressure built inside her with nowhere to escape. Greedy growls vibrated against her folds as he gripped her hips and held her to him.

“Oh my God!” She teetered. A little further and…She jerked when he dragged a finger over her asshole. “Greyson!”

He chuckled, but kept devouring her.

When he reached up to hold her chest, she realized just how coordinated he was. She didn’t know if she should feel humiliated, petrified, or if she should thank the gods that he finally shared this part of himself with her.

“Ah!” A wave of pleasure built inside of her, zinging through every nerve along her spine. Her toes curled and she started to move without guidance. Then she screamed his name.

His fingers dug into her hips, holding her as close as possible as her pussy pulsed around his tongue. He groaned with dark, masculine satisfaction, drinking down every drop of her release.

She fell back, gasping for air. His smile radiated full-on arrogance as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. She gaped at him, wondering how anyone could be so secretly filthy and unhinged. “Could you look more impressed with yourself?”

“I could try.” He flashed a wolfish grin.

“Who are you?”

“A hungry man. I could eat you for breakfast every day.”

She glanced at the bulge in his pants. “Is it my turn now?”

“I’m pretty sure you just had your turn.”

“No, I mean, is it my turn to do that to you?”

He stilled. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

She reached for him anyway, and he caught her arm and she frowned, confused. “Are we back to this?”

“My cock comes out, Wren, and I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to stop.”

“Who says you need to?”

He was silent for a moment, then he folded his hands behind his head, giving her full permission to roam about his body. She reached for the waistband of his lounge pants then hesitated.

“Having second thoughts?”