Page 54 of Rookie Season
“What’s that?”
“It was over too fast.”
My lips trail down her throat, her collarbone. I want to find where she’s sensitive. I need any advantage I can get.
I’m going to make her lose herself—to prove she was wrong to not text me for an entire year and act like this was nothing between us.
Fuck it, I’m going to make her a fan of Christmas too.
“Mmm. And how do you plan to fix that?” she teases.
I could tell her I’ve pictured it. That I fuck my hand and think of her. That I remember how her eyes looked, the scent of her skin, exactly what she as wearing, that little tattoo on her wrist and how badly I wanted to bite it.
She arches, encouraging me closer.
I’m only too happy to comply.
“So much I wanted to do,” I murmur. “Again. Better. Slower.”
My mouth lowers farther. Every inch makes her writhe.
I drag her sleep shirt up her chest. Her skin is soft and smooth, and there’s a tail of a dragon tattooed down her ribcage. I trace it with my tongue.
I push the shirt up farther, revealing the curves of her full breasts. I cup one in my hand, my lips skimming the underside until I find a spot that makes her shiver. I play with her nipples, already hard despite the warmth of the loft.
Her soft moans are the best sound. My abs clench, my thighs. Every inch of me is ready to fuck her, but I’m holding back.
She shrugs out of the robe, and I get a look at what’s underneath.
The thong is black lace and hugs her curvy hips and ass.
It teases me, makes me question my idea to take this so. Fucking. Slow.
I wrap my fingers in the panel, twisting, then yank down. They rip.
“Ryan!”
“Oops.”
“These were expensive!”
“Then it’s a good thing I signed a new contract this year.” I could buy her a thousand pairs exactly like them.
She’s so gorgeous like this, her skin flushed, her breasts hard, and the curve of her stomach leading down to the curve between her thighs. I shift over her.
My fingers brush the inside of her thigh. She shudders, her legs pressing together. I hold them apart and trace a finger up her slit.
She’s wet, slick as though her body is already anticipating this. It’s satisfying and torturous.
“Yes,” she moans.
My thumb strokes across her clit, and she arches her hips. Her hand grabs for mine, and I think she’s going to push me away, but she just holds me there.
“Is that how you like it?” I rub small, slow circles. Then I change things up. “Or like that?” I sink a finger inside her, pressing deep into her warmth.
God damn, she feels unreal. Her body grips me tightly, and my dick spasms hard—even before Sierra cries out a long, low moan.
She claps a hand over her mouth.
