Chapter 7

Laine

Whether it's the wine, the exhaustion, or simply having no more fucks to give, being devoured by Tag is the best bad idea I've ever given into.

I feel the man everywhere at once and yet he's barely touched me. He's hot as fuck and smells so good I could melt into a puddle at his feet.

"Turn around. I need to kiss you properly."

There's a demand in the growl of his voice, and it hits me with a wave of lust. I spin around and his hands clutch both sides of my face as he crushes me up against the glass.

His lips crash down on mine in a world-shattering kiss. There's no caution, no gentleness. His mouth moves over mine, hot and possessive.

Never have I ever been kissed like this before.

It's too much…

It's nowhere near enough…

His tongue slicks the seam of my lips and I give him entrance without hesitation. My head is spinning and this time I know it has nothing to do with the wine. He's possessive and wild.

I can barely breathe, but I don't care. If I suffocate, I will leave this world a happy woman.

His hand splays against my ass, pulling me against his impressive cock. The metal of his Cartier watch is cool against my flesh and a shiver races up my spine.

He breaks the kiss and chuckles next to my ear. His breath is hot and makes my nipples peak as his chest brushes over mine. "Is the glass cold on yer bare ass, Laine?"

It's not the glass that makes me shiver—it's him.

The silky dark hair, his piercing eyes, and muscles upon muscles upon muscles. The man oozes sex, and nothing about him is vanilla.

Kissing my neck, his little bites send a zing of pleasureful pain straight to my core. "Fuck, I want to go down on yer cuuny, but I don't think I can give up kissing yer lips."

I fist his hair in both hands and urge him down. "Kiss me in a new location. You'll be fine."

He barks a laugh and flashes me a devilish grin. "Aye, I suppose that's true."

Sinking to his knees, he tugs my jeans the rest of the way down my legs, and I lift my feet, so he can take them off. It's a good thing there's a wall behind me because my blood is pumping so hard, my legs are trembling.

He runs a hand from my ankle, up the inside of my calf, and thigh, and then back down again. The touch is maddeningly gentle, and I groan as he repeats the circuit inside my other leg.

"I'm close to melting here."

The sight of him kneeling before me, with his ebony hair tousled and his emerald gaze glittering with hunger, is enough to make me whimper.

The anticipation is killing me.

"So impatient," he teases, leaning forward to run his tongue up the inside of my thigh. "Grand things come to those who wait."

"Oh, I've waited." I groan as his mouth inches closer to where I so desperately need him. "I've waited too long."

"Well, wait no longer." Gripping my calf, he lifts my leg over his shoulder and then grips my hip with one hand and sinks his fingers into the round of my ass with the other.

With a desperation I share, he yanks me closer and presses his mouth at the apex of my thighs. "Feckin' hell, if you taste as good as you smell, I'll be done for."

I'm about to tell him to stop stalling when his tongue runs between my folds and finds my clit.

"Yes! Oh, god, yes…" My head drops back and clunks on the glass, but I don't care. I don't feel it. I feel nothing but the glorious flick and swirl of his tongue on my clit and the scruff of his evening jaw on the inside of my thighs.

With my fingers still fisted in his hair, I ride his mouth and let off a moan so loud it echoes in the room. I don't care about that either.

I'm a wreck.

A heaving, horny, quaking wreck.

I didn't realize how mediocre Marco was at eating pussy until this moment.

Tag's throaty groan rumbles against my flesh and the keening sensation building in me doubles.

"Don't stop," I pant. "Please, never stop."

"I won't," he rasps against my core. "Couldn't if I wanted to. And I don't."

The hand on my hip drops away and leaves me wondering…more like hoping…

Two strong fingers stroke through the warm slick of my folds and then slide inside me. He finds my G-spot in seconds and my inner muscles pulse and grip at the blissful invasion.

This pub owner is a freaking sex god.

Tag pumps his fingers inside me, stroking me in all the right places, and devouring me with his mouth. As each wave of wet heat sears my core, he groans and laps at me with even more vigor.

It's too much. He's too much.

I need him inside me like fire needs oxygen to burn. Every cell in my body is vibrating with sexual potential. Building. Aching. Pulsing.

"Come for me, Miss Laine. Let go so I can press you against the glass and bury my cock deep inside."

"Tag!" His name tears from my throat as my orgasm detonates. I cry out, my legs threatening to buckle as everything around me shatters.

With a strong hand at the center of my chest, he presses me to the glass, holding me upright. The throbbing is violent as I tighten around his fingers and heat floods my entire body.

There's nothing ladylike about it.

I buck and ride and cum against his mouth, and nothing has ever felt so incredible.

When the waves of shuddering sensation fade, I'm left panting for breath, my head spinning, and my pussy aching for more.

He stands, his liquid gaze swirling like nothing I've ever seen. Swallowing, he wipes a hand over his glistening face.

He's staring.

"Everything all right?" I ask, suddenly very self-conscious.

"I want to fuck ye, Laine. Wild and untethered. I'm just trying to decide whether you'd welcome that side of me—the beastly side."

I shiver as heat blooms through me anew and my nipples peak unbearably hard under the fabric of my bra. "I'd welcome it."

He searches my gaze as if looking for any doubt, but he won't find any. I'm all in.

He moves so fast the room spins and then my breasts are pressed against the glass and I'm staring at eighty people dancing out in the pub. They're less than twenty feet away and I'm naked from the waist down and about to be fucked right in front of them.

The idea is thrilling.

It makes me wanton and wet.

"Palms on the glass, beautiful. Brace yourself."

I press my palms against the glass, and he steps in behind me. Wrapping his arms around me from behind, I feel the expensive fabric of his slacks and the solid shaft behind it.

"Are you sure?"

"Do you have a condom?"

His hand slides down my side and then appears a moment later with a silver and blue foil packet in his hand. "Not a problem."

My heart is hammering in my chest. "Then I'm—Holy shit. They've got guns!"