Dirty Love by Lacey Savage

Tingling streams of erotic energy pulsed through Isy's body in instant response.
    "No one's done that for hours just to watch you climax, again and again?” he asked, relentless. “No man has made you his world, able to survive on nothing but another taste of you?"
    She shook her head in jerking, feverish motions. Long strands of blond hair fell into her eyes. Connor tucked them behind her ears with one hand, while the other glided beneath the waistband of her panties and found the wet heat of her soaking sex.
    This was supposed to be about him. She needed his seed, and that had nothing to do with her ability to orgasm, with or without his help.
    She opened her mouth to protest, but he decided to choose that moment to curve his index finger and nudge it between her soaked, aching pussy lips.
    She stifled a gasp and angled her hips, urging him on. Her clit throbbed, a hard little knot of needy nerves that all pulsed and flared, begging to be touched.
    Connor yanked on the waistband of her panties. She obeyed the unspoken command and lifted her ass from the countertop just long enough to let him slip the panties and slacks down her legs.
    As she watched him kneel before her and glide his lips down every inch of skin he revealed, she was absurdly grateful she'd shaved her legs. She'd had no reason to do it, yet somehow it had always seemed important that she keep up good grooming habits.
    Absurdly, she'd always hoped celibacy wouldn't be her fate, no matter how much the world wanted to thrust it upon her.
    Isy's heart raced. She knew what Connor intended to do, down there on the floor, his head even with her groin. She knew, and she didn't care.
    Oh, no, that was an outright lie. She cared ... so much . She wanted his mouth on her engorged sex lips, wanted him sucking on each delicate fold, needed him to graze her swollen clit with his tongue.
    What would it hurt? She was still pretending she was the one he wanted, and for now, that was enough. Besides, it's not as if she was breaking any law. She wouldn't let him penetrate her—even if he wanted to, which, surely, he didn't.
    He used the flat of his palms to spread her thighs apart and gaze at her parting lips. “So beautiful,” he murmured, and Isy imagined that was true reverence she heard in his voice.
    She glanced between her legs, assessing the appearance of her pussy with the clinical eye of a practitioner. Not bad for a forty-four year old . The inner labia looked dewy and pink, peeking out from a neatly-trimmed thatch of pale pubic hair. Not a gray strand in the bunch, she noted with foolish pride. She could smell her musk, more delicate than she'd expected considering cream seeped between her folds and dripped onto the counter.
    Connor pressed the tips of two fingers against her clit and rubbed slowly in small circles. His gaze pinned hers. “Good?"
    She said something incomprehensible. A cry and a moan and his name, all rolled into a sigh of breathless wonder.
    He grinned, and the sight of that genuine smile made Isy's heart do a summersault.
    "More?"
    Like he had to ask. She licked her lips. “Please."
    So polite. Her voice so damn steady, despite the fact she felt as though she was coming apart at the seams from the inside. The urge to clamp her thighs around Connor's handsome face and grind her pussy against his mouth knocked the air from her lungs. She fought for control, each breath coming in a harsh, ragged gasp as potent need clamped down on her belly and twisted.
    Lust knifed her, and still, Connor went slowly. Maddeningly slowly.
    He placed sweet, soft kisses to the inside of her thigh. His warm lips caressed her skin and the tip of his tongue left a wet trail in his wake. Each brush of his mouth felt like a sensual embrace, engulfing her flesh, driving deep inside her where the taut need and the silly girlish fantasies had been lying dormant for so long.
    The progress of his mouth wasn't even a kiss any longer. It was a getting-to-know you exploration,