Page 101 of His Surrender

He groans. “The longest.”

I turn in his arms until we’re facing each other.

His tie is loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and despite the expensive suit and polished shoes, there’s something different about him now than there was in the morning.

Less CEO, more Dean.

“You look tired.”

“I was.” His eyes meet mine. “Then I came home.”

A smile spreads across my face. “That’s a pretty smooth line, Mr. Ledger.”

“It’s not a line.” He brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his expression softening. “It’s the truth.”

For a long moment, neither of us says anything. The music continues quietly in the background. Somewhere down the hall, the baby monitor lets out a faint burst of white noise before settling again.

Dean glances toward Liana’s room, then back at me. “Still asleep?”

I nod. “She wore herself out.”

“Good.” He smiles. “I was hoping I might get a few minutes with you first.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “What did you have in mind?”

Dean hooks a finger in the waist of my jeans and pulls me forward. “I think I’d like another taste of your sweet pussy.”

My breath catches in my throat.

No man has ever talked to me like this. He has a dirty mouth, but my body seems to love it.

He unbuttons my pants and pulls them down, along with my panties, to my ankles. Instead of having me step out of them, he places his hands on my ass and pushes my hips forward. His tongue licks as far as he can go between my thighs with them pushed together. I don’t know what the position does, but I feel so much more sensitive like this.

When his tongue reaches my clit, I let out a long, slow moan. My head falls back, and my hand reaches for his hair.

“Eyes on me. I only lick this pussy when you’re watching.”

His words once again make me even more wet. I feel it between my thighs. I lift my head up and lock my eyes with his, desperate for more.

He moves his hands off of my behind and brings his thumbs to my folds, pulling them apart and exposing my clit fully to him.

He starts to flick his flexed tongue, hard and quick, against my clit.

“Dean,” I gasp as each flick brings me closer to orgasm.

Then he buries himself against me, moving his head back and forth as his tongue moves.

I get onto my tippy-toes, desperate for more. When he finally sucks my clit, my orgasm hits me like a bucket of ice water. Every nerve in my body takes notice.

I ride it out while his eyes never leave mine, watching every single second of my reaction until my body nearly goes limp against the counter.

For a long moment, neither of us says anything.

The apartment is impossibly quiet around us, the only sounds the soft music still drifting through the speakers and the occasional hum of the refrigerator.

He pulls my jeans and panties back up and buttons them for me.

I rest my forehead against his shoulder, trying to steady my breathing while his arms wrap loosely around my waist.