Page 98 of The Best Kind of Bad

She bites her lip, nodding.

I push my finger deeper. “You been keeping this warm for me?”

“All. Day. Long.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “You, too?”

She finds the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. “I never stop thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” I plunge my finger in and out.

She gasps, lifting her hips. A soft laugh tumbles off her lips. “As if you didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t.” I insert a second finger. “What do you think about?”

Her hands clutch and my shoulders and she stifles a moan.

“Marnie. Tell me.”

One of her hands grips my wrist, pinning it between her legs. As though I’d move it.

“Your cock.”

“You think about my cock?”

She nods, lips parting.

I lower my lips to her ear. Nipping at her neck. “What do you want to do with it?”

“I want you to fuck me with it.”

With one arm tucked under her back, I cast around for my jeans, and the condom I thoughtfully tucked in the front pocket. In the darkness, I think I see a vaguely denim-looking pile of fabric twenty feet away. I must have kicked my jeans farther than I thought. “Ah, shit.”

I start to pull away and she wraps her ankles around my hips. One hand pulls my cock from my boxers and the other shoves her panties to the side. “Now.Please.”

Hell. Yes.

I let her guide the head inside. The moment it pops in, she lets go of my shaft, sighing in pleasure or relief. I gather her into my arms and thrust my hips forward. Her back arches against my forearms. I pull back and thrust in, deeper this time, and a soft moan tumbles from her lips.

I’m still trying to get over howgoodit feels to be inside her like this. Feeling everything.

Every little thing.

It makes every nerve in my body come alive. A soft, warm breeze sails over my back, cooling the sweat on my spine. I canfeelthe moonlight. I swear to God I can. It’s lighting me up, both of us, and I think if I keep going like this, moving inside her, that I can make it last forever.

It’s fun to play rough and ready with her. She and I both get off on the domination thing.

But the way I’m moving with her, in sync, has nothing to do with games.

I’ve never really understood what people meant when they talked about making love. The phrase was a bit cringey, to be honest.

But here, with her, under the stars and the big old Nebraska sky, I get it.

It’s poetry in motion.

With this connection, I’m telling her something. With my kisses. With my hands.

I love you.

---