Page 87 of Sin Bin Daddies
My fingers dig into her hips. “Tell me you want this.”
Her lashes lower. “You know I do.”
I slide my hands up, fingers slipping beneath the thin straps of her dress. “Then show me.”
She does.
She kisses me like she’s been waiting all night. Like she’s been waiting forever.
Her hands tug at my shirt, her nails scratching over my abs as I push the fabric over my head.
My breath hisses through my teeth. “Maddie?—”
“I need you,” she whispers. “Now.”
I grab the back of her neck, my mouth crashing into hers, and I shift, pulling the seat back, giving us more room as I slide my hands up her thighs, hooking my fingers beneath her underwear and dragging them down.
She’s already wet.
For me.
I groan, dragging my mouth down the curve of her throat, across her collarbone. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
She shivers. I reach between us, guiding myself against her, and her breath catches.
I grip her chin, tilting her face up. “Look at me.”
Her lips part, her eyes hazy as she meets my gaze. And when I push inside her, she doesn’t look away.
She clings to me, her nails digging into my skin, her breath coming in uneven little gasps as I move.
Slow. Deep. Like she belongs to me.
Like I’m never letting her go.
Her fingers slide up my arms, over my shoulders.
I can’t stop looking at her. The way she falls apart. The way her body trembles against mine.
She moans my name, her head falling back, and I grip her hips tighter, forcing her back down.
“Eyes on me, baby.” My voice is hoarse. “I wanna see you.”
She obeys, her gaze locking with mine as she comes undone.
And fuck, I go right with her.
I hold her tight, my forehead pressed against hers, our breathing uneven, ragged. The truck windows are fogged, the air thick and humid, our bodies slick with sweat.
Neither of us moves.
Then, quietly, she whispers, “What are we doing?”
I don’t know how to answer that.
So I kiss her instead, like she’s already mine. And for now, maybe that’s enough.
I drop her off at her place, watching as she disappears inside before I drive back home. Except, when I step through the door, I find Asher sprawled out on my couch, looking at me like I just walked in with a goddamn ring on my finger.
