Page 111 of The Publicity Stunt
My gaze travels downward, trickling over his abs all the way down to the opening of his jeans, and that V—
“Stop looking at me like that,” he says and I look back up. “Or else you’re going to make me come before I’m even inside you.”
His words coax another smile from my lips and I sit up, bending over to take off my heels.
“No,” Parker says. “Leave them on.”
“Leave them on?”
He tilts his head to the side, the heat from his hazel gaze scraping every inch of my body. “That a problem?”
He could ask me to wear those godforsaken heels and run a marathon tonight, and I’d happily oblige. I pull him down, dragging his body against mine, not realizing until now how badly my body ached to feel his chest against mine.
“Spread yourself for me, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of my jaw. Then my neck, then my collarbone, and all way down, his teeth grazing past my nipple.
I run my hands down his chest, down to between our hips, reaching for his pants. He grinds against me and I feel his hard length against my pussy. Fuck. His breathing gets uneven. I flick open the button and reach inside. He groans right into my ear.
I don’t know about him, but I might just come again before he’s inside me. I push his pants past his hips, and he scrambles to yank them off completely. I slide my fingers lower and wrap my fingers around his hard cock.
Immediately he tenses up. “Fuck …” He pushes into my hand, his fingers tightening their grip around my hair. “April, stop. I need to … fuck.”
“What you need,” I whisper, “is to be inside me right now.” I run my hand along him, firmly but slowly. His hands fist into my hair and he buries his face in my neck, his hot breath falling on my wet skin. I start stroking his cock faster. “Do you want to fuck me?”
“Yes …” he sighs. “Fuck.”
I pick up the pace and he groans into my neck. “Then please, Parker, please fuck me.”
He reaches down and brings my hand back up, forcefully pinning both my wrists above my head with his left hand. He lowers his mouth to my nipple and licks it slowly. “Say that again.”
“What?”
“April.” This time his tone is more assertive and the wetness between my legs increases. He tugs on my nipple with his teeth. Hard. “Say. That. Again.”
“Fuck me.”
“That’s not what you said earlier.” His teeth graze past my skin. “Use your nice words. Beg for it.”
I can feel all the feminism waft out of my body. “Please … please fuck me.”
With a slow smile curling up his lips, he slides his right hand behind my back. “Good girl, April.”
That “good girl” has me writing my wedding vows.
I arch against him, and he positions his tip outside my folds. He pushes in just a little, making me inhale my first real breath of the night, then slams into me hard. I moan into his ear, my body losing all strength to bite it back. “God, yes.”
He hardens his grip over my wrists and grunts against my temple, pushing in deeper, settling himself inside me. “Go on. I’m listening.”
He lets go of my wrists and grips my waist, pinning me down to the mattress. Pushing in harder. Deeper. Pounding into me like his life depends on it. Each stroke more possessive than the first. He’s letting me know he wants each and every part of me. With one hand lightly gripping my throat, he pushes in again. And again. “Breathe, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.” Another thrust. I bite my lip.
“Thought I told you not to do that.” He tugs it free with his mouth. Hooking my knees over his arms, he pulls me into him and picks up the pace, fucking me harder and more urgently.
I bunch my hands into his hair. His tongue, hot and soft, moves to the side of my neck, sending shivers up every nerve of my body. I squeeze my eyes shut.
He pushes into me faster. Unapologetic about the way he’s devouring me. “April?”
“Mm-hm?”
“Get on top of me,” he says. Lowering my legs down on the bed, he flips us around, drawing me on top of him. “Your turn.” He grabs my hips and pin them onto him. “I want to watch you fuck me.”
