Page 137 of Will Bark for Pizza
He pulled away my guiding hand. “Be a good girl and keep your hands on that bookshelf.”
I nearly came at his command.
Holy hell, Beckett Campbell had a secret dark side.
A supersexydark side.
And I was here for it.
Future Kira could worry about the repercussions.
Kira of Right Now needed to experience this freshly uncovered, wicked side of Beckett Campbell.
I gripped the edges of the sturdiest bookshelf, bending forward as Beckett slid a hand over the fabric of my bra. I whimpered at the delicious contact, craving more. I arched into his touch, wishing the fucking lace prison would evaporate.
He slid his other hand up the side of my shirt and back down before dipping inside. The man was set on torturing me as he moved leisurely up my body, taking his time caressing my skin with his fiery touch. Until finally, after what felt like hours, his second hand joined the first. Then both my breasts were in his capable hands. He kneaded them, gently yet greedily.
“Fuck, Red.”
“Fuck is right,” I panted.
One hand disappeared, but before I could complain, the clasp of my bra slackened.
“Was that move part of your military training?” I teased.
“That move was all me, Red.” Both of his hands gripped my hips, and I pushed my ass against him. He groaned as I grinded against his hard length. Those capable hands slid up my sides and gripped my bare breasts as though they were the only handholds on the side of a cliff.
“Fuck me, Kira,” he groaned, teasing my nipples with pinched fingertips as he continued to massage my boobs. “I’ve been thinking about your tits since that first day I saw you.” His confession came in hot whispers against the shell of my ear. “When you were soaking wet from falling in the lake. Your nipples”—he squeezed them both—“were poking through that sorry excuse for a shirt you were wearing.”
I was so fucking turned on.
Had a manevermade me feel this desired by doing so little?
He released his hold on my right breast, his hand moving south. I gasped as his fingers played at the waistband of my shorts.
“Who the fuck wears shorts all the time in amountaintown?” Beckett growled. “You’ve been killing me with those long legs.”
“I have?”
“Like you didn’t know,” he said, chuckling deeply. The low laughter vibrated against the crook of my neck as his lips pressed there. My top button popped open with the same ease as the clasp of my bra. My knuckles were turning white at the death grip I had on the bookshelf, butI didn’t dare let go for fear Beckett would stop. And I didnotwant him to stop.
Not now.
Not ever.
He slid inside my shorts, those warm fingers on a slow but determined mission. He ran them over the silk of my panties. I spread my thighs wider, desperate for him to reach his destination.
“So fucking wet,” he said, his tone pure primal approval. He stroked softly, applying the perfect pressure to my button. I rocked my hips gently with his motion, afraid I’d spontaneously combust at any moment. His touch was fucking fire, and I was the short fuse to a bomb about to go off.
I moaned as he slid his hand up, and dipped it beneath the silk.
I cried out when his rough, callused fingers made contact with my clit.
“Do I make you wet, Kira?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
His laughter was one of my favorite sounds. He kissed my neck, biting down gently. “I could mark you. Like Darius,” he offered in jest.
