Oh my god. This scene had me straddling my pillow. I loved loved loved Kline in Tapping the Billionaire. You need to check it out because it has some of the steamiest scenes I've read in a long long time.
I was convinced, somewhere down the line, Kline’s dick had a great-great-great-great grandfather dick, and it was that exact shaft that had inspired some woman to pull down a guy’s pants and say, “Oh yes, I need to suck on that.” This was a history-making, Nobel Prize award-winning cock. The sole reason the blow job was an actual thing.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” he whispered, sliding my panties down my legs.
Yes. Hell. Yes. Taste me.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” He licked across my stomach. “Your cock is beautiful,” I said.
He kneeled between my legs. “Tell me how bad you want my cock, Georgia.” Blue eyes scorched my skin as he stroked that perfect dick.
“Bad. So bad,” I begged.
“Be patient, sweetheart.” He smirked. “I can’t wait to fuck you, but right now, I need your taste on my tongue.”
Kline gripped my thighs, spreading me wide, while his head was between my legs doing everything a guy should know how to do with his tongue.
“Oh, fuck,” I moaned, gripping his hair and following the movements of his mouth with my hips.
“Come for me, Georgia,” he demanded.
And like a goddamn romance novel cliché, I came on command… on my boss’s face.
I was panting. Drained. Sated. My muscles were lax, skin peppered with a sheen of sweat. I had thoroughly worked myself over. When I opened my eyes, I realized I had just gone to a place I could never come back from.
Kline Brooks had just been inaugurated into my spank bank rotation.
And he’d given me the best orgasm I'd had in a long fucking time.