Page 72 of Crazy Thing

“Dammit, Ziggy,” he groans, his fingers flexing against my scalp.

I swirl my tongue around the head and mewl at the salty taste of him. “Oh my god,” I whisper, a thrill of arousal running through me.

“More,” the impatient man commands me. Actually, it sounds like a plea. “Do that again.”

Too turned on to rebel against his wishes, I lick him again. He rewards me with another desperate growl and a slight buck of his hips.

Growing impatient myself, I completely cover his crown with my lips. I hollow my cheeks, sucking slightly and warmth gathers between my legs. My pussy is throbbing for release again.

My hands twist around the base of his erection. I slowly begin to bob my head.

I hear Darius’s sharp intakes of air, I feel the tension of his hand in my hair. He’s holding back. He’s barely restraining himself.

I drag my tongue along the underside of his shaft and he shudders. Then he suddenly pulls back, ejecting himself from my mouth with a pop.

“What…? What’s wrong?” I whisper, wiping the back of my hand across my swollen lips as I stare up at him.

“Shit…” Darius groans as he looks down on me, the dim bulb from the kitchenette illuminating the toned, tattooed planes of his powerful body. “I can’t hold back anymore. I need to fuck you.”

“Yes…” I breathe out.

He hooks his fingers beneath my arms, helping me to my feet. “So gorgeous,” he mutters, covering my mouth in another dirty kiss, letting his hands roam the slopes of my body. “You have a condom?”

I search my brain. “Maybe…Hold on.”

I scamper off to my bathroom and dig through my toiletries basket. I’m lucky enough to find one single, solitary, sad-looking foil packet covered in organic cream bronzer and dried up toothpaste and eye shadow dust. I check the expiration date because who knows how long this thing has been here?

When I step out into the main area of the bus, waving the condom in the air, I see that Darius has figured out that my couch pulls out into a small mattress.

I’m impressed. That contraption isn’t always easy to figure out. But when a man needs to get laid, he’ll always find a way to make it happen.

He warily eyeballs the sketchy-looking condom when I stretch it to him. I cringe. “Sorry. I haven’t exactly been ‘getting busy’ lately.” And this lone, pathetic condom makes it painfully clear.

Darius takes the rubber from me. He observes the blazing flush on my cheeks and he chuckles.

“You are so fucking hot,” he mutters. “Get over here.” He kisses me once more. Then his hands are on my shoulders, gently pushing me down onto the mattress.

Heart thudding, I lie back and watch him put on the condom. Then he’s climbing over me, a dangerous want in his eyes.

Ziggy, do you know what the hell you’re doing?

No. I don’t. I absolutely do not.

But I recall Darius’s words from earlier.I don’t want to think. I don’t want to overanalyze this to death. I just want to feel.

I want to feel him inside me tonight.

He tenderly pulls my legs apart, settling his hips into my valley. “You sure about this?” He leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from mine. He strokes the side of my face. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

There are a million reasons why I should take him up on that offer. Heaven knows that would be the smart thing to do.

But I don’t want to be smart. I want to bestuffed.

Mercilessly.

I lock my ankles around his back. “I’m not changing my mind.”

Uncertainty shadows his expression. “Are you sure?”

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