Block Shot by Kennedy Ryan

Author:Kennedy Ryan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scribechick Media, LLC

21

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It’s like that first time he kissed me, and it’s like no kiss I’ve ever had before.

When Jared first kissed me in Sudz senior year, the zeal, the fervor of it snatched my breath. Yes, it was deep and hard and demanding, but what startled me was that all that intensity was turned on me. Watching Jared, crushing on him for years, and then kissing him was like seeing a cyclone from land—marveling at its power and dark, twisting beauty only to find yourself suddenly, improbably, at its center. Standing still in my office, I’m at the spinning center of a kiss that will demolish my life. I know it, but I can’t stop.

I want it too much.

I crave the deliberate seduction, the methodical, plunging, sweeping stroke of his tongue over mine. He angles me, fits his lips over mine, controlling the pace and depth of the kiss, standing and flipping our positions. He hoists me by my waist onto the cluttered desk surface and inch by inch, urges my skirt higher and higher until the hem collects at my waist. With a glance down at the triangle of black silk between my thighs, he groans, falls to his knees, raining kisses on my stomach through my blouse. The hot, wet suction of his mouth at my breast penetrates the flimsy layers of silk.

I can’t form the words that would stop him. Maybe I could have before he slid down my belly and buried his nose in my panties. I like to think I could have before he dragged the black silk down my thighs and past my stilettos. But I’ll never be sure. Because he did those things, and then he pressed me open wider and separated the lips of my pussy and sucked my clit.

“Ahhh.” A rumbling starts at my center, the warning tremors of Pompeii. A premonition of ruin. “Jared . . . Oh, God.”

His mouth never leaves me, but he presses one big hand between my breasts until my back hits the desk and my legs dangle over its side. Then he opens me like a flower, peeling back the petals and flattening his tongue against me, his mouth hungry, thirsty, needy, and my body surrendering every response he demands. His is unrelenting worship, and I’m his altar. I stretch my arms down, knotting my fingers in his hair and caressing the rugged beauty of his face. His jaw flexes under my fingers with the ardor, the wondrous labor of his mouth between my legs.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

It’s an order. It’s a plea. It’s a breathless incantation tumbling past my lips in cadence with my hips thrusting into his face. I’m at the precipice, peering over the edge into an unlit well—a mystery my body begs to solve. Jared adds his finger, a thumb inside of me, while his mouth lavishes that bud of nerves that has become the center of my existence.

And I tip over.

I fall headlong into a wave of unmitigated pleasure that shakes my body.

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