“Fuck, baby, these panties are soaked. Look at how wet you are. How ready. You’re making my mouth water.” His beard brushed over her thighs a second before the fabric of her panties did. “Kinda makes me want to pull them back up and just tongue you through the fabric for a while—”

“No!” she cried out, and tried to pull them from his grip.

He chuckled, all slow and in control, just as he always was. “So hungry for my mouth.”

He had no idea. Becca bit down on her lip as he slowly, exquisitely dragged her panties down the lengths of her thighs and then her calves. She wanted to fling her legs wide open in invitation as he settled his big shoulders between her legs. He ran his fingers along the insides of her thighs, sliding from knee to apex, and by the time he got to her mound, she was breathless once more. She loved the feel of his big hand as he gently pushed her thighs apart—she’d been waiting for that. Waiting for that small touch that told her that he was in control. That this was all handled . . . and that it was his idea. Maybe she was still shy when it came to oral and didn’t want to be a bother, and that was why she waited for him to open her up like a flower.

“Gonna taste you now, baby,” Hank told her, his beard tickling against her thighs and making her squirm. “Been waiting for this all day long.”

Oh damn, so had she. Becca closed her eyes and curled her fingers in his thick hair, waiting, her body utterly primed, for his mouth to descend.

When it finally did, she practically came right there.