Which was timely, given her next move was parting her lips and slipping them over the taut, flushed crown, taking it into her mouth. “Oh fuuuuuck.”

Tucker groaned long and low on a rush of exhaled air, leaning heavily into his hand as his knees threatened to buckle. His eyes clamped shut as her tongue swirled tentatively around and around the dome, and every nerve ending in his body pulsed with pleasure. She withdrew for a second before sliding her lips around him again, going farther this time, her tongue exploring the dimensions of his girth. Her lips formed a seal as she withdrew, creating a suction he felt right down to his toes.

“Like this?”

Tucker dragged in a breath as he forced his eyes to open. The sight that greeted him almost had his knees buckling again. Della looking up at him, her hand wrapped firmly around him, her lips wet against the flushed, glistening crown of his cock.

Her blue eyes were unsure, though, looking for his approval, searching for signs of his pleasure. “Yes.” Tucker nodded.

After that, she didn’t ask any more questions, she just opened her mouth and took him back inside, sliding on and off him with excruciating thoroughness, her head bobbing as she grew bolder with each pass, taking him a little deeper each time until Tucker was panting hard and so very, very close.

“Della.” He shut his eyes, his hand involuntarily tightening in her hair, grunting as the taut fibers holding him in check started to ping lose. “I’m so close.”

Suddenly, she was gone. The hot, wet suction of her mouth no more.

Tucker’s eyes flew open, the pulse at his temple throbbing as his body frantically tried to put on the brakes. “Della?”

Her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Tucker shook his head, as much to clear it as to assure. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just…don’t think I want to…” She paused, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, wet and full and so damn sexy from all that suction. “Go all the way. Not…this time.”

A cool wash of relief flooded Tucker’s chest. She didn’t want to swallow? He didn’t give one single fuck about that. “Christ, Della, I don’t care.” He reached down for her then, hauling her up his body, urging her legs apart as he lifted. “I’d rather be inside you when I come anyway.”

And he wanted that now. Right now.

Turning her, he pushed her against the wall and kissed her hard, his hands breeching the hem of her skirt like he’d been wanting to do ever since he’d knelt to pat Betty. “Oh Christ,” he muttered against his mouth as his palms encountered bare skin. “You’re commando.”