She obviously shared the same sentiment, because the next thing he knew she was kissing him.
Her hot mouth latched onto his, her eager little tongue darting out and filling his mouth.
Oh yeah.
Carson didn’t care that they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor, didn’t care that this was his best friend’s stag or that his SEAL buddies were probably getting a kick out of watching him from the second-floor railing. All he cared about was devouring every inch of sweet Jessica’s mouth. And devour he did.
He thrust one hand into her long, wavy hair and angled her head for better access, shoving his tongue deep in her mouth. She tasted like alcohol and sex. His erection pulsed as she flicked her tongue over his, over and over again, and then she nibbled on his bottom lip and his c**k damn well near exploded. Jesus. He was harder than a slab of marble, and in serious danger of coming in his pants from one—albeit very erotic—kiss.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered against her lips, shaping her ass with his hands and thrusting his aching groin against her belly.
“No, I want you now.” She kissed him again, long and hard, moving one hand down his chest and palming the bulge in his jeans.
He almost keeled over backwards. A groan rose in his throat and it took all his willpower to move her hand away. “We’re on the dance floor, sweetheart,” he pointed out.
She shot him a wicked smile. “So?”
Christ, this woman was going to kill him. He’d never been more turned on in his entire twenty-nine years, and he suddenly knew that if he didn’t f**k her—now—he really would explode in his pants.
“C’mere,” he ordered gruffly, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the mob of dancers.
He had no f**king clue where he was taking her. He just walked as fast as he could—difficult seeing as the Erection of the Year was dominating his lower body. He shoved random people out of his way, not bothering with excuse me, just pushing forward. In the darkness, he caught sight of a corridor leading toward the restrooms. Both the men’s and ladies’ washrooms had a line. Goddammit.
Still gripping Jessica’s hand, he glanced around, spotted a door marked Supplies and pushed at the handle with his other hand.
A dark closet welcomed them, lined with cleaning items and toilet paper and smelling of pine, lemon and rubbing alcohol.
Carson barely noticed his surroundings. He locked the door behind them, promptly shoved Jessica against the wall, and kissed her again. She instantly parted her lips and sought out his tongue, lapping at it like an impatient kitten in front of a saucer of milk. There was something desperate about her kiss, and when he pulled back and looked into her eyes, he saw a flicker of desperation there too.
“You okay?” he murmured, caressing her lower back with one hand. The heat of her skin was driving him crazy, making it difficult to think, let alone talk.
“I’m fine. Great, actually. No, better than great.” Her voice trembled slightly, but her gaze now shone with passion and determination. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers along his jaw. “I need you to do something for me, Carson.”
It was hard to concentrate with her stroking his face like that, but he managed to ask, “What is it?”
“I need you to rock my world. Can you do that for me?”
The words were laced with steely fortitude and teasing challenge, and again, that twinge of desperation. He got the feeling something was up with her. That she was upset, or pissed off—trying to get back at an ex perhaps? Maybe, but at this point, he didn’t care. She wanted her world rocked? Well, he was definitely the man for that job.
He pulled his wallet from his pocket and retrieved the condom he kept there. Jessica’s eyes darkened with passion when she saw the foil wrapper. While he unwrapped it, she rubbed the front of his jeans, up and down, down and up, until his c**k ached so badly he could barely suck in a breath. Then she unzipped his pants and wrapped her fingers around his erection.
“You’re so hard,” she whispered as she stroked him, swirling one finger over his swollen tip.
“All because of you, sweetheart,” he rasped out, finally managing to roll the damn condom onto his throbbing shaft. “Take your panties off.”
For a second she looked nervous, and then she slipped her hands underneath her skirt and slowly peeled her silky black underwear down her legs. She kicked them aside, watching him expectantly. “Any more demands?” she asked with a tiny grin.
“Just one.” He moved closer and gripped her hips with both hands. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She did as she was told, and a second later he was cupping her warm little ass in his hands and lifting her up. He would’ve liked to drop to his knees and lick her up like an ice cream cone, get her nice and wet for him, but she didn’t seem interested in foreplay. And it wasn’t necessary, he soon learned, as he slid his c**k deep inside her and found himself surrounded by her tight, soaked pu**y. He nearly keeled over backwards, relying on all his strength to keep them both upright and not pass out from the incredible sensations all that warmth and moisture elicited inside him.
“God, you feel good,” he choked out, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
She responded by clasping her legs tighter around him and squeezing his c**k with her inner muscles. And just like that, he lost control. Not that he’d been in control to begin with. Oh no, he’d said goodbye to his control the second this woman walked up to him, the second she’d latched her mouth on his and asked him to rock her world.