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56

“Fifteen minutes, Drake. Ticktock . . . remember.” I smiled before I ducked my face under the dress.

I placed my nose on the lace, right over her clit, and inhaled her.

That fucking smell.

I couldn’t get enough.

Ever.

“Oh shit,” she moaned, quivering.

I rubbed my nose up and down the thin material before I slipped the fabric to the side and licked from the lowest point of her all the way to the highest.

There would be no teasing in this elevator.

No waiting.

No punishing by drawing out her orgasm.

Drake needed one thing from me, and I was going to give it to her.

I pointed my tongue and focused on the top of her clit, swiping it back and forth while I used two fingers to spread the wetness down to her opening. I made sure to coat those same fingers as I prepped her, gradually inserting just enough that she knew where I was going, and then went as high as my knuckles.

Her hand found my head, the dress between us stopping her from pulling my hair—or even seeing me—but she still pushed a
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