Page 39 of Wish You Would

His hands lower to his belt buckle. My god, I am going to lose it. I’ve wondered what he looks like under his clothes. My tongue slides over my lower lip, an overwhelming need sparking to life inside of me.

“Briar, I need to know exactly what you want so you’re comfortable with me and you enjoy this.”

“I want you. So much. I told you, Holden, take me. I’m yours tonight to do anything you want with.”

Slowly his buckle is undone, then the button on his jeans, followed by the hiss of the zipper. He pushes his pants down his legs, kicking them to the floor.

Without thinking I reach for him, tracing my fingers over every dip of his abs as he patiently watches me. My body aches to feel him, the length of him, the weight of him in my hands.

“Love your hands on me,” he groans. “Goddamn, I’ve been dreaming about this. Of you and me. Naked. The things we do in my dreams, Briar. I bet your fucking perfect under that lace, aren’t you, beautiful?”

His eyes shut and his head falls back as my palm covers the length of his erection over his boxer briefs.

“Jesus, Bee, please take me out,” he pleads. “I need you to touch it.”

I giggle at the sound of him begging, then I give him what he wants. Sitting up, I dip my hand under the waistband of his boxers, feeling the dusting of coarse hair just above his erection and circling his hard cock with my hand.

His breath hitches. Holden bites down on his bottom lip, trying to keep it together, every muscle in his torso pulled taut. “Wrap your hand around it and tug,” he begs. “Please.”

My hand wraps around the silky-smooth skin of his width as my index finger grazes over the slit gathering a bead of liquid. Then I tug his boxers down to his thighs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything inside of me turns feral. Holden Banks is undoubtably beautiful, there is no question, and so is the package he is working with. He’s long and thick with one protruding vein down the center of his shaft leading to a perfect mushroom-shaped tip. The patch of dark hair that surrounds it is short and groomed.

“I am hard as fucking stone for you,” he grits out. “I bet you’re soaking wet for me.”

I swallow, knowing the answer is yes. He confirms it when he dips his hand under the lace and swipes a finger through my slit.

“Drenched for me, Bee. Such a good girl.”

My cheeks burn. Why do I like hearing him call me that so much?

I take hold of him again, gripping him tighter, running my hand up and down his shaft then giving the head a little attention. He’s leaking at the tip, so I swipe my thumb over his crown, coating my hand before spreading the moisture over his shaft. He pushes his hips forward into my hand, groaning at the feel.

“That feels so good.” His eyes squeeze shut, his body tensing. “I love it when you rub the head.”

Holden is coming apart, his breathing shallow. I give him three more long tugs before he’s pulling away when I get him too close.

“I’m not ready for this to be over yet.” His hands wrap around to my ass, pulling me into him, kneading and massaging both cheeks in his hands. His bare chest presses against my skin, and he holds me there while hismouth expertly works mine. “It’s my turn to make you feel good.”

His fingers toy with the lace triangle of my thong as he kisses me, sucking on my bottom lip. The moment his fingers begin to slip the lace over my hips, I’m practically begging for him to touch me.

He eases me back on to the bed, licking and kissing a path down my body. “This is when you tell me what you like.”

I gently drag my fingers through his hair. “I’ve never been asked that before.”

“I plan on ruining you for all men.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He smirks, then presses a kiss right below my belly button. “That is a dare I will happily accept.” I can see in his eyes that he’s looking forward to the challenge, and I’m looking forward to seeing how he delivers. It has been far too long since I’ve orgasmed without the help of a battery-operated toy.

Holden chuckles with an arrogant smile on his lips right before spreading my legs wide. Then his tongue licks a long, achingly slow line through my seam.

I moan his name.

“Yes, beautiful. Do you want more?”

“Please.”

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