“Look at you. So ready for me. So ready for however I’m going to take you,” he said in a low, dirty growl. He reached the apex of her thighs, his thumbs brushing against her slick folds.

She gasped at his touch. “Take me,” she whispered.

He was on all fours, bent over her, his face near her hot center, her trussed-up feet under his knees.

“Open your thighs as far as you can,” he told her, and she did as commanded, parting her legs for him. In that position, she couldn’t spread them in a V; instead she opened into a diamond as one knee hit the side of the seat, the other the bottom.

“I love how turned on you get,” he said as his gaze returned to the center of her world. She ached. An exquisite, needy ache. He dragged one finger through her wetness, then brought that finger to his mouth. His eyes floated closed as he sucked off her taste, moaning as if she were his dessert.

“That’s so hot,” she whispered, burning up all over from watching him savor her, from waiting for him to make contact.

He opened his eyes, breathing hard through his nostrils as he licked his lips. “I want to hear you reach those high notes this time. I want you to shout and scream my name. Tell me to taste you. Say it. I want to watch those sexy red lips say it.”

“Taste me, Ryan,” she said.

He dropped his head between her legs, and spread her open, then licked—a torturously slow lick up her center that had her singing “Oh my fucking God” at the top of her lungs, the music and the partition making the limo their own pleasure zone. He’d worked her up so much already that it wouldn’t take long. He looked up. “You like that?”

“Yes, so much.”

He brushed his finger against her throbbing clit, and she rocked her hips into his hand. “Kiss me again,” she said, so damn desperate now.

“You need to say please,” he said, his eyes blazing as he issued an order.

Oh God, they were playing again. She barely knew the rules. She was figuring it out as she went along. “Please don’t stop. I’m dying for you. Please.”

“That’s better,” he said. “Now say don’t stop as I eat you. Say it over and over as I lick your absolutely perfect pussy.”

He dived back into her sex, licking and kissing and sucking. Making her tremble. Making her hot. Making her shudder. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she said over and over, and she meant it desperately. All she wanted was to come. To buck into his mouth, and soar off that cliff of pleasure. To fall apart as he buried his face between her legs. With her arms stretched so tight she couldn’t move, her ankles bound by her own panties, and Ryan kneeling over her hot, wet, pulsing center, she thrust upward.

Fucking him so he wouldn’t stop.

He murmured and groaned as she moved beneath him. His hands curled around her ass gently, as if he were aware it still might hurt. But nothing hurt now. She only knew pleasure, only understood desire. Lust was their shared language, as his magic tongue drew wickedly wonderful lines up and down, flicking her clit, kissing her pussy. She screamed and writhed, calling out his name, shouting to the heavens that she was on her way to bliss. He sent her flying over that edge as she came hard.

A minute later, he’d untied her purse from the buckle. She lowered her arms to her waist; the strap was still wrapped around her wrists, her bag by her side.

“Sophie,” he said, his voice gravelly and deadly serious. “I need something from you now. I’m fucking desperate for it.”

“Okay,” she said, still loopy from the mind-blowing orgasm.

“You gotta sit up, get down on your knees, and suck me hard,” he said as he stroked the thick bulge in his pants.

A fresh round of sparks rained down in her body from his dirty words. “Gladly,” she said, so damn eager to taste him. “Want to untie me?”

He shook his head. “Yeah, that’s the thing. I won’t do that.”

Blow jobs were a hell of a good time, but she did a better job at blowing when she could use her hands. “But wouldn’t it be—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “You said you trusted me, right?”

She nodded, even as a small swell of nerves rose up inside her. She could trust him, right? She wasn’t being foolish, was she?

“Good,” he said softly, running a hand through her hair. “Because I need you on your knees.”

Oh lord, how she’d longed to hear those words. How she’d craved to get on her knees for a man like this.

She dropped to the carpet, her hands tethered tightly to her own purse, which dangled in front of her, and she watched as he untucked his shirt and unzipped his pants. Arousal raced through her at the sight of him.

He pushed down his boxer briefs.

She drew a sharp inhale at the sight of his gorgeous cock. Her lips parted instantly, and her mouth watered with want. His dick was thick, hard, and long. He stroked it with his right hand, and the fire inside her roared. “Come here. Take me in,” he whispered, and with his free hand, he grasped the back of her head, guiding her to his shaft. A drop of liquid was on the head, and her tongue darted out to taste it.

He grinned. “You like that?”

“I do,” she said breathily.

“Well, I love blow jobs, so I have a feeling this is going to be good for both of us,” he said, gently tugging her closer. She opened her mouth wide, her lips tightening over her teeth as he fed her his dick.

It was his turn to groan. “Yeah. Just like that, beautiful. Just like that,” he said, his voice rumbling.

She’d never done this hands-free, but he tasted so good, the perfect mix of clean and musky—of sex and freshly-showered male—that she let go of her worry about not using her hands. Besides, she had no choice. She had only one instrument. Her mouth.

He gently guided her head up and down, moving her mouth along his cock at just the right speed. All she had to do was suck. She tightened her lips as he rocked into her.

“I pictured this the day I met you,” he said on a loud moan.

She raised her eyebrows as if to say, You did?

“You were so stunning. In that dress. Those tits. That hair. The whole Marilyn Monroe thing you have going on,” he said, roping his fingers through her hair. “I wanted to have you from the second I laid eyes on you.”

She sucked harder, listening to him tell the story of wanting her. It thrilled her to be desired like this, in the same way, with the same kinks. To discover they fit sexually was such a high for Sophie. She’d been craving this kind of electric chemistry in the bedroom.

Not only craving it. Needing it.

“I wanted to fuck you from the second I saw you,” he said on a thrust, filling her mouth. “I wanted to eat you,” he said, as he curled his fingers tighter around her skull. “I wanted to make you come.” He hit the back of her throat and her eyes watered. But she kept going, pushing past the gag reflex. “And I wanted to come in that pretty mouth of yours,” he said and inhaled sharply, breathing erratically. He squeezed his eyes shut, grasped her head, and came in her throat.

* * *

He scooped her up and set her down on the seat, still woozy from his own climax. But he wasn’t so sex-drunk that he couldn’t focus on taking care of her. Before pulling up his briefs, he unknotted her panties from her feet, untied her from her purse, set the bag down on the seat, and held up her wrists.

“How do they feel?”

She shot him a sly grin. “The purse is made of only the finest leather, so they feel quite fine.”

He laughed, and dropped a kiss to her forehead, then tucked himself back in. She pulled her panties on, glancing down at them. “Hmm. They are a little stretched. But I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I. And I promise to replace them immediately.” He tipped his head to the bar. “Champagne?”

“I’d love some. You should have some, too, especially since you don’t have to do bone graft surgery tonight. Or so I presume.”