Page 61 of Better Not Pout
I truly don’t think I’ll ever get over the way this man picks me up and tosses me around as if I weigh nothing.
It’s the sexiest thing I’veeverexperienced and only makes me even more ravenous for him.
Who knew that something like that could besoattractive.
“What are you thinking right now?” he asks as he shuts the front door of my apartment with his foot, carrying me straight to the bed and laying me down gently onto the mattress.
I can feel my cheeks heating, a moment of shyness creeping its way up my neck and spreading along them.
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
Wells shakes his head. “Nah, now I’ve gotta know.”
“Or… you could just take off your pants.”
His shoulders shake with a low, deep chuckle that warms my insides.
God, I love that sound far too much.
“Nope. Not getting naked for you until you tell me what has you blushing like that.” He trails the tips of his fingers along my chest, over the swell of my breasts to my nipples, where he slowly circles them. “You’re pink everywhere, Sugar.”
I fight the shiver that threatens to rack my body and swallow. “I was just… thinking about how easily you can pick me up and, you know, carry me up a flight of stairs. That’s all.”
His brows cinch tightly together, confusion marring his face. “Yeah? That’s what’s got you blushing, acting shy?”
I’m not sure if I love or hate how easily he can read me.
“It just surprises me. Both the fact that you even can and how much it turns me on.”
A dark shadow of… something moves over his face before he leans forward, framing my jaw in his hands. “You weigh nothing, Sugar. I’m a man whose entire career has been about taking hits from three-hundred-pound men and returning those hits. I could bench-press you. I’m a fuckingman,Rosalie. One who loves every goddamn inch of this body. One who loves your curves and softness. One who loses his goddamn mind with the need to touch you. I’m not a boy who can’t handle the woman that you are. Do you hear me?”
My throat feels thick as I swallow and somehow manage a nod. “Okay.”
He presses his lips to mine softly, sweetly, with so much tenderness that I ache before pulling back to look at me.
“If you need me to reassure you of that every single time I see you, I will without hesitation. Over and over, until you realize how perfect you are,” he whispers fiercely against my mouth, his stare so intense that I’m overwhelmed by the intimacy… the unexpected emotion of this, and I feel the sting of tears welling.
God, Rosalie, don’t you freakin’ dare start crying during sex with the hottest man you’ve ever seen.
“Thank you,” I say. “For…seeingme. That’s not always something that I’ve had, and it means so much to me that you do, Wells.”
“Don’t thank me, Sugar. It’s a privilege to be the one to touch you—hell, to fuckingknowyou the way that I do.” He drags the tip of his nose along my jaw, placing soft kisses along the edge, trailing them down my neck in a path that makes my skin feel feverish and hot with every place that his lips touch.
His lips continue gliding along my skin, leaving wet kisses until he reaches my nipples and closes his lips around the hardened peak, sucking it into his mouth.
The moment that he does, it’s like something inside me snaps. The pent-up intensity of the moment we just shared, the emotion, the closeness, it all comes barreling out of me, and I reach for him in desperation. My fingers curl around his nape, tangling in the hair there and holding his wicked mouth to me.
“God, Wells,” I pant as his teeth scrape my nipple, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. “I… I need you.”
He pulls back, and his eyes meet mine, heavy-lidded and so filled with lust they appear almost black.
“Please.”
That one simple plea is his undoing.
He slams his mouth against mine, silencing the whimper that escapes, his tongue thrusting through my parted lips, stroking, as his hands travel down my sides.
The tips of his fingers dig into my thigh as he hitches it high on his side and rocks his hips. I can feel every inch of his erection, hard, long, and impossibly thick.
