Whiskey Darling by April Moran

Author:April Moran [Moran, April]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: April Moran Books
Published: 2020-03-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Allie

Oh. My. God. What am I doing? What am I saying? Am I giving my boss carte blanche to do whatever he wants?

Is it too late to change my mind?

Do I want to?

“The others…” Somehow, I remember the other employees.

“Gone already. Sawyer closed up for the weekend.” Flynn’s big body hovers over me. “We’re alone, Allie.”

He licks my neck before nipping the spot where it curves into my shoulder. The thrill streaking through me is almost more than I can bear. Dizzy, I grip his forearms.

“You taste… so… sweet,” he murmurs before biting my earlobe.

Each word is punctuated with kisses and nibbling bites of my flesh as he embarks on a lazy exploration using his mouth. Keeping one hand on the column of my throat, he lightly skims the spot where my pulse beats an erratic tattoo. His other hand travels past the edge of my dress, snaking underneath.

Hot and hard on the bare skin of my inner thigh, his fingers make me jump.

“Shhh,” he admonishes. “Steady now.”

My grip tightens on his arm, squeezing the suit fabric into a wrinkled mess as he ventures further between my legs. When he reaches my center, slipping inside me once, twice, I suck in a gasping breath of air. I’m so wet for him, it must feel as though he dipped into a lake.

With a muttered curse, Flynn yanks the hem of my dress up to my waist in an unexpectedly violent motion. Now I’m exposed. He can see everything.

I don’t care. I just want his fingers back inside me.

“Allie, Allie. You little liar.” He sounds amused. Aroused and amused. “You said your panties matched your bra.”

“They do,” I groan, desperately pushing my hips toward him.

“But you’re not wearing any, you bad, bad girl.” He chuckles softly, tracing two fingers over the bare mound of my sex, tracing and tapping until I whimper with frustration.

“They match when I… when I wear them.”

My explanation tumbles out, garbled and breathless. I’m glad I’m not wearing panties. One less layer between us, the way I look at it. Besides, they ruin the lines of the dress.

“All right. I suppose I’ll forgive you for that.” He laughs again, the sound making me shiver. “Now, do you remember what I said, Allie? One finger.”

Before I can beg him, he slides that finger, large, rough, and callused, all the way inside me. His mouth covers my cry. It’s almost too much, this invasion of my flesh, while at the same time, it’s not enough. I want more of this painful, pleasurable burn. An ache grows inside me so quickly that I can’t stop from pushing down on his palm, seeking his touch, riding his hand.

Flynn is no inexperienced high school boy, nor is he a man intent on playing games. No. He’s a man of his word, and I learn what he is capable of with heart-pounding speed.

His finger hooks inside me, catching on a spot so intensely sensitive I rise on my toes with a startled moan. The windowpane is cold against my naked back, but I barely feel it.

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