Page 72 of The Trade

“Your gorgeous eyes, your pouty lips, that fucking heart-shaped birthmark.” He unfastens his belt, sliding it through as he removes his jeans. “One look at you and I’m instantly hard.”

“Theo,” I whisper. “I need you to touch me now.”

He moves to cup my breasts with a firm yet tender touch. Teasing my nipples, he rolls them between his fingers, eliciting a soft moan. Then, with a tilt of his head, he captures my mouth in a hungry kiss. Our lips meet, tongues tangling together.

The rough pads of his hands continue their exploration, teasing, stroking, driving me to the brink. And now I’m squirming against the hard surface of the dresser, aching for more, a warm pool of heat flooding my center.

“Your body is so fucking tight and sexy,” he murmurs between kisses, fingers trailing down from my breasts to my waist. His words make me flush, a mix of pleasure and a tinge of insecurity creeping in. I’ve never considered myself to be sexy, not when I’ve always been more of the girl next door.

“Fuck, baby, your hips”—he groans, his hands squeezing them possessively—“your thighs. Every time I see you in the library, I can’t help but imagine my head between them.”

“Show me.”

The words barely leave my lips before he’s kneeling before me, his lips pressing tender kisses along the inside of my thigh, slowly inching closer to my core.

His movements are deliberate, unhurried, as he licks a slow, torturous path toward my center. A low groan escapes his lips as he pushes one finger inside me, his touch igniting a spark of pleasure that spreads through every nerve ending in my body.

“Fuck, Jade. You’re so wet,” he groans, his voice laced with desire. “So . . . tight.”

With each deliberate thrust of his fingers, he delves deeper, stretching me, driving me closer to the edge. “That feels. . .” I trail off, unable to speak as his lips wrap around my clit, his tongue flicking and teasing.

The combination of his fingers and mouth sends me spiraling. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, shattering me completely.

As I slowly come back to my senses, he stands up, his boxers discarded, his eyes locked onto mine. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Please.”

He slowly rolls on a condom. With gentle hands, he grips my hips and guides my body forward on the dresser, aligning my pulsing core with the head of his throbbing cock. Then he presses his hand flat against the wall behind my head, his gaze drilling into me with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

“Tell me you know,” he whispers, his voice low and rough.

I gasp as he inches forward, the tip of him nudging at my entrance. “Know what?”

“That I want you and only you.”

“I know.”

“Good.” With a firm grasp on my hips, he pulls me closer, impaling me with a single, punishing thrust that steals my breath away. The force of his movements rocks us together, the dresser scraping against the wall behind us.

Oh, God. He’s almost brutal in the way he pounds into me. With every push and strike of his hips against mine, my fingers nearly slip out of place on the wooden edge.

“Theo,” I moan, the sound a desperate plea for more.

This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s rough and fast and all-consuming. Every stroke, every collision of our bodies, drives me wild. I let out another moan, but this time, it comes out more like a whimper.

“That’s a good girl,” he growls, his voice gravelly and commanding. “Take it.”

With one last forceful thrust, he slides out of me, lifting me off the dresser and tossing me onto the bed. I’m on my stomach as he comes up behind me. His strong arms slide underneath my hips, jerking me onto my hands and knees.

My body shudders as his fingers trail up my spine. He threads them into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling gently until my head tilts back, exposing the column of my throat.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, lips grazing against my ear, breath hot on my skin.

“I want—I want you to fuck me.”

He brushes my curls over one shoulder, his lips trailing from my ear down to my neck. A low moan escapes my lips as he nips and bites, marking me as his.

“How?” His hand snakes around my waist, trailing across my stomach until it reaches my throbbing clit. With skilled precision, he presses his thumb against the sensitive bud, circling it until I fall apart.

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