Page 91 of Beauty
I let go of her wrists and scrape her hair away from her neck. Humming, I pepper soft kisses against her skin. “It really is. And as my boss, I’d think you’d want me completely focused.”
She rolls her hips again. “Maybe.”
I groan. “Baby, don’t tease me. I’m teetering on the damn edge right now. Will you put me out of my misery and let me in? Forgive me for not coming for you? Be with me?”
She shakes her head, the movement jerky. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
In answer, she pulls away.
My heart plummets, though the free fall stops when she holds out a hand. “I’m wet.”
I swear my hearing goes in and out as the words register. Holy fuck.
“I want you to fuck me. I want you to make me come the way only you know how to. Can you do that?”
I’m nodding before she finishes her sentence.
Her lips turn up into a wicked smile. “Good. But don’t get emotional on me. Don’t call me baby. Fuck me with the kind of force you used when you hit that player tonight. Show me how much you want me.”
“Strip,” I grind out as I yank at my tie and pull it off in one quick move. “Everything off but my jersey.” I loop the silk around my fist.
I want so much more than to make her come, but I’m not strong enough to say no to that request.
Without breaking eye contact, she shimmies her pants down her hips, then kicks them off.
“Bend yourself over the couch. Let me see the way my name and number look above that perfect fucking ass.”
She listens without argument, stalking to the couch, her hips swaying beneath my jersey, the number 69 a sick taunt. My mouth waters at the sight.
One day Gavin’ll regret having assigned me that number.
With a quick shake of my head, I push that thought away. Then I lock up any and all thoughts of her brothers. They maybe my teammates and friends, but she’s the elixir to the poison coursing through my veins. Or maybe she’s the accelerant.
Blood singing and body humming, I step up behind her and skim the smooth globes of her ass.
“Remember, you asked for this.”
I pull back and bring my hand down on her ass cheek. She cries out, and her ivory skin turns the prettiest shade of red. Without giving her time to recover, I do it again, this time marking her other side.
“This how you want it, ba—” I snap my mouth shut to keep from calling her baby.
If I’m not careful, she’ll pull away. Though with the way she moans and grinds against the couch, I don’t think she noticed my slip-up.
Curling around her body, I bring my mouth to her ear. “Think I can make you come like this? By spanking you alone? Reminding you that you’re mine?”
“Fuck you,” she growls out.
Did that last part break her rules? Maybe. But she needs to be reminded of the truth. She’s mine. I won’t accept any other outcome.
“Bet you’re dripping all over the couch, sweet cheeks.”
When she whimpers in response, all sense of self-preservation leaves me. I drop to my knees and push apart her ass cheeks so I can lick up the mess she’s making. At the first taste, I groan. Her arousal is sweet against my tongue. Just like her original nickname. So fucking delicious. I only allow myself a few licks before climbing to my feet and raining down another smack.
“Jesus,” she mutters.
“Noah,” I remind her.
