Page 50 of The Contractor's Rose
He exhaled, and something in him seemed to snap. His mouth curled into a dark smile. “Good girl.”
The words ripped through me like lightning.
He moved. No more restraint. No more waiting. He slid one hand up the back of my thigh, lifting it slightly, then pushed the other beneath the hem of my dress. His knuckles skimmed higher, higher—until he found exactly what he hoped for.
His jaw tightened. “You’re going to fucking destroy me.” His fingers grazed over my slick center, and I jerked with a gasp. He teased—barely touching, just enough to drive me mad—until my hips began to rise without permission.
“So wet for me already,” he groaned, eyes locked on mine. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, do you?”
I shook my head, breathless. “Show me.”
He pushed my dress higher with a deliberate slowness that had me shaking. It bunched at my waist, and the moment I was exposed to him, he leaned down and pressed a searing kiss to the inside of my thigh—then bit. Hard enough to leave a mark. I gasped, head falling back.
His hands—so big, so sure—slid beneath my knees and spread me wider, shamelessly. He looked up and there was nothing soft in his gaze. Nothing gentle.
“I want my touch burned into you,” he said, voice like molten steel. “I want you aching tomorrow. Still flushed from tonight. Still tasting me on your skin.”
“Gavin—”
His tongue silenced me.
There was nothing careful about the way he devoured me. It was greedy. He licked and sucked and moaned into me like he was the one experiencing this level of pleasure, like thiswas what he was starved for. His stubble scraped my thighs, his grip was bruising, and his tongue explored me deeper than he did on the kitchen counter.
“Fuck,” I cried, thighs trembling around his head. My hand found its way into his hair, pulling him closer to me.
He didn’t let up. Didn’t stop. He groaned into me like a man unhinged before pulling away and placing his thumb above my clit and adding pressure. “Let me hear it, baby. Come for me.” As soon as the words passed those tortuous lips, his tongue dove back in for more.
Within seconds, I did as he said. I couldn’t stop it. My hips jerked, back arching as the orgasm hit fast and hard. My hand fisted his hair and I would have been worried I was being too rough if not for the rumble that vibrated against my clit and pushed me further over the edge. I think his name left my lips, but I was too wrecked and undone to be sure.
When he rose, mouth wet and pupils blown, he rested back on his knees and motioned me forward with his index finger.
I sat up and reached for his belt with shaky fingers. I fumbled, flustered and frustrated that one orgasm from this man was making my movements screamdick virgin, but he caught my wrists gently. Gavin kissed the inside of each, then placed my hands back on his buckle.
“Take them off me,” he said, voice rough. “I want you to see what you do to my cock.”
I worked his belt open, undid the button on his dark jeans, and dragged the zipper down. His cock sprang free, nothing underneath the jeans stopping it. He was thick and hard, and the tip glistened with precum, showing me just how much he’d enjoyed himself between my legs. If I were beinghonest, it was a little … daunting to think that would all fit inside of me. But also exciting.
My lips parted. “Oh my God.”
He smirked, though his voice was a threat and a promise. “You scared, sweet girl?”
“No.” I grinned up at him. “I want it. All of it.”
He moved off the bed, taking off his boots and socks and beginning to step fully out of his jeans. “You’ll get it,” he said while kicking them off into the dimly lit corner. “But you’ll take it how I give it. Now—take off that torture device you call a dress.”
Hands shaking, I reached for the hem of the dress. The soft silk left a chill on my skin as I lifted my hips just enough to pull it over them, then I slid it up and over my stomach, my ribs, my breasts. I pulled it over my head and tossed it aside.
Before I could say a word, he grabbed the backs of my thighs and hauled me toward him—one swift, brutal motion that dragged me to the edge of the bed. I gasped while my hands flew back to brace myself.
He wasright there. The thick blunt head of his cock nudged against my entrance, ready to claim me in a way that no one had done before.
As if he could hear my last thought, his touch softened. A single brush of knuckles across my cheek. Gentle. Intimate. It was a contradiction to the other side of him that I knew wanted to come out. A silent promise that even in this situation—especiallyin this situation—he was paying attention. That I was safe in his hands, even when they were rough.
“This is your last chance.”
“I want you,” I confessed. “I want this.”
He pushed past the resistance and into me with one long, hard thrust.
