Page 18 of Dating the Rebel
“Promises, promises,” she remarked. But she reached for him now, wanting to give him the pleasure he’d given her. He stood next to the bed, silently refusing to join her. And he was so tall that she had to kneel on the bed to reach him, to slide her hand up and down his cock before closing her lips around the tip of it.
A bead of his pleasure slipped out, and she licked it away.
He groaned. And his fingers tunneled into her hair. He held her against him as she took him deeper in her mouth, in her throat, before he pushed her back.
“I want to be inside you,” he said. “I need to be inside you.”
She understood that need. Even after the pleasure he’d given her, she needed more and instinctively knew she’d experience that with him.
He pulled open the nightstand and grabbed a condom from the drawer. This hotel was truly full service. His fingers shook a little as he fumbled with the packet, so she took it from him. And she used her teeth to tear it open before rolling the condom over the length of him. He pulsed in her hand, hard and thick and tight with desire for her.
He was powerful, but she felt powerful, too, for making him want her so...
And he did. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and his forehead, and his entire body vibrated with tension. Then he knelt on the bed and pulled her on top of him.
She straddled his hips, but he lifted her higher, his sheathed cock stroking her mound. She reached down and guided him inside her—where she was already so damn wet and ready for him.
She arched as he slid inside—deeper and deeper—until he filled her. And so damn thick that his cock pushed against her clit, too.
“You’re so tight,” he said, his voice gruff. “So damn hot.”
Clutching at his shoulders, she rode him—bucking up and down, rocking against him. His hands gripped her hips, and he matched her rhythm just as he had on the dance floor. Fast, frantic—the beat of desire pounding inside her head, inside her body...
Tension wound tightly inside her, pulling her nipples taut—making her clit throb. As if he knew it, as if he felt it, too, he reached between them and rubbed her clit with his thumb.
And she came, the orgasm shuddering through her with even more intensity than the other ones he’d given her. She dug her nails into his shoulders and screamed his name.
Then he tensed and growled as his body pulsed inside her with his release. He lifted her up and off him and laid her limp body on the mattress, and then he disappeared into an open door of the bedroom.
And Miranda panted for the breath he’d stolen from her. He had not disappointed. Grant Snyder had entirely lived up to her teenage fantasies and then some...
What the hell had happened?
Grant had spent the night—the entire night—having sex with Miranda Fox. While he’d hoped for that to happen, he had learned to never count on anything where she was concerned. She was more likely to do the opposite of what he wanted than she ever was to do what he actually wanted.
Until now...
Now she’d done everything he’d wanted and some things he hadn’t even realized he’d wanted.
She was insatiable. And she’d made him insatiable. He’d never rallied as much as he had for her—the desire more intense each time.
The first light of dawn streaked through the blinds of the bedroom, painting lines across her silky skin. She lay limply on the bed, on her stomach, her face turned toward the side. A slight smile curved her lips. She was pleased with herself.
So was he.
Wasn’t he supposed to ask her something now? Demand something from her?
Something about...
He couldn’t think of anything but her, of wanting her yet again. Damn it.
“Damn you,” he murmured as his cock began to stir again.
“I’m not even touching you,” she said, and the smile was in her voice, too. She was staring at him now, though, and that was all it took.
He hardened, and the minute he did, she moved. She must have tucked the condoms under her pillow because she already had one in hand. She sheathed him in latex and then in her wet heat as she straddled him.
She felt so damn amazing. So hot. So tight.
