Page 11 of The Best Kind of Bad

But he’s waking something up in me that is carnal and reckless. I hook my ankles around his hips and tug him hard, dragging his shaft deeper in one swift thrust.

“Ah. Fuck.” He grunts, bracing himself on the desk. His other hand cups the back of my neck. “Impatient?”

I’m trapped by that dark gaze, prey to a predator. All I can do is nod.

“Careful what you wish for, sweet girl.” His voice is a low rumble that sends a thrill through my body.

I take a shaky breath. “Harder.”

His expression is almost pained, but he leans forward, dragging my body to his and thrusts hard into me, burying his entire length. I cry out, clinging to his back. He pulls out slowly, thrusting back in with a quick, powerful sweep of his hips.

His cock presses mercilessly against my inner wall, hard and slow. We both watch his shaft slowly pull out, only to piston back in with enough force to make the desk shake. Tension builds in my body. My nipples, my skin, everything is over sensitized, nerves snapping. I’m losing it, moaning with each thrust.

“Shh. Quiet.” He murmurs, like he’s soothing a wild animal.

And maybe that’s what I am, because I feel completely undone by him. I bite my lip, muffling the next moan.

He runs his nose along my temple, kissing my cheekbone. “Good girl.”

Pleasure radiates through my chest at those words. I’ve always been a sucker for a take-charge guy and the thought of pleasing this beautiful stranger, in all his muscular glory, lights me up with stupid, happy satisfaction. Lord knows what that says about my inner psyche, but at this moment, I could give a shit.

I just know that this man is methodically, precisely pushing me towards the highest peak I’ve ever experienced.

When he leans down, finding my nipple through the lace of my bra, I’m done for.

His teeth gently nip at the hard bud and the tension that has been building in my core reaches a crescendo, sending a white-hot glow of pleasure through every nerve. I can feel it in the tips of my toes.

Hell, I can feel it in the tips of my hair.

I cry out, forgetting all about keeping quiet, and he presses his hand over my lips. I bite down on his palm and he grunts, chuckling quietly.

He pulls me up against his chest, holding me while I catch my breath. When I stop twitching around his shaft, I realize he’s still rock hard. And even though my pussy is very content, I want more.

I peer up at him, and he gently brushes my hair out of my face.

“Don’t stop.” I say, surprised at how soft my voice sounds. “Please?”

His eyes darken with that word and I smile inside, smug at having figured out how to push his buttons.

With a man like this, clearly favored by the universe and gifted in all the ways that count, I am not above begging.

9.

Dusty

It took everything I had to hold on to my shredded restraint. I was kind of proud of the accomplishment. She came, and I was the perfect gentleman. I held back. Barely.

But with one little word, she catches me off guard, obliterating my weakened defenses. The rational part of my brain is shouting SOS.

I hear it. The warnings bells go off.

They just aren’t loud enough.

I slide out of her, helping her to her feet. Then I’m spinning her around, pushing her over the desk.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” I say through gritted teeth.

She glances over her shoulder, through her long, dark hair. “Don’t hold back.”

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