Page 30 of Falling for the Bad Boy
Forcing myself to slow down, to let the anticipation build, I complied. First one strap, then the other. I held one arm across my chest, pinning my bra in place, wanting to tease him just a bit. “Like this?”
He laughed as he switched positions, putting me squarely in the middle of his lap. His finger gently pressed against my breastbone in the center of my chest. Then he hooked his finger around the rosette in between the cups of my bra and drew it down. “I was thinking more like this.”
Yes, oh hell, yes. I almost shrieked the words out loud, but this was his game, and I wanted to find out what his next play would be. My arm remained where my bra had been, shielding my breasts from his unrelenting gaze. His eyes darkened even more as he cocked his head.
“Let me see you, Trinity.” The words came out soft, not so much a demand as a plea.
I lowered my arm, exposing myself to the burn of his gaze. Heat washed over me, not from embarrassment, but from want. A desperate need forced the air from my lungs. My chest heaved.
“Fucking beautiful.” His hands reached for me without touching. Palms glided about half an inch above my skin, making me hyper aware of that tiny sliver of space separating us.
Wanting to push my breasts into his hands, I waited, stifled that urge. This foreplay was torture, evil, even. But so hot, so incredibly hot I might come before he even laid a hand on me.
“I want to touch you.” He nudged his nose into my hair, his hands at his sides.
I nodded, nuzzling his cheek with mine.
“Would you like that?” His breath tickled my ear.
Would I like that? Was he kidding? If he didn’t get his hands on me in the next few seconds, I wouldn’t be able to hold back. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded again.
His finger brushed my hair back, grazing my shoulder. I took in a sharp breath as I shifted closer, trying to line up my torso with his, desperate to feel his skin on mine. He drew my earlobe into his mouth. My hands went to his shoulders, my fingers digging into the firm flesh, pulling him closer.
Instead of releasing some of the tension that crackled between us, the feel of his mouth, the heat of his tongue, made me even more impatient. I put my hands on his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze. Then I bent toward him, capturing his mouth with mine. Every part of me hummed with anticipation. He flipped me onto my back and hovered over me.
“Need some help with these pants?” His fingers had already started working on my button.
I undid the zipper and pushed them down my legs. He kissed a trail down my chest, between my breasts, over my stomach to the waistband of my pink and black polka dot panties.
“These need to go, too.” His fingertip rimmed the sensitive skin under the elastic waistband. So eager to feel his hands on me, all I could do was nod. He snagged the elastic in his teeth and tugged my panties down my legs.
Fully exposed, I trembled. Not because I was cold or nervous. But because my body was so full of adrenaline, the rush had to go somewhere.
“You okay?” He flung my panties over his shoulder.
“Your turn.” I nudged my chin toward his shorts.
One side of his mouth ticked up in a smile as he slid his briefs down his legs. His erection sprang free.
He was wrong, he was the beautiful one. Every inch of him looked like it had been carved out of granite. Maybe marble. From the broad shoulders to his tapered waist, he embodied perfection in the flesh.
He reached into the nightstand and grabbed a condom. I bit my lip as he wrapped a hand around his dick and unrolled the latex. A tiny part of me wished he’d let me feel him first. I wanted to run my tongue around the rim and taste him. Next time. Right now I needed him somewhere else.
I leaned back on the bed, supporting myself with my elbows. He crawled over me, hovering on his hands and knees. Unwilling to wait for him to take the lead, tired of his taunting and teasing, I dug my fingers into his glutes and pulled him down. The crushing weight grounded me. I spread my legs underneath him, nudging my hips up. He slipped a finger between them, zeroing in on my clit. It didn’t take but a few strokes before I pushed his hand out of the way and angled my hips to meet his.
A moment of resistance, of adjusting to his size, and then the sweet fullness of having him seated deep inside washed over me. He pulled back then thrust forward again. I tried to hold back, knowing the longer I held my climax at bay, the better it would be. But as he found a rhythm, I lost control. It seemed like every nerve ending in my entire body aligned, propelling me toward a release. It built, growing, expanding, until I teetered on the edge.
In that moment Oliver paused. He pulled back until his dick barely nestled against my entrance. I waited, panting, my body tense, eager for the inevitable. Then he thrust. Hard. Filling me, going deeper than he had before. I exploded around him, literally saw stars dance across the back of my eyelids as I clung to him. He stilled, letting my climax run its course, murmuring against my ear. I couldn’t make out what he said but his tone offered comfort, encouragement, reassurance.
The intensity slowly dissipated until just the aftershocks coursed through me. Oliver held me tight, still seated deep inside until I trusted myself to speak.
“Um, wow?” I managed.
He rolled to the side and gathered me against him. “I guess I can take that as a compliment?”
I nodded against his chest. “More like an expression of awe.”
“Awe, I like it. I guess it was good then?” A smile played at the edges of his lips.
