Page 57 of Some Like 'Em Burly
“Like I said.” I wet my lips, gather all my courage, then climb carefully onto my bodyguard’s lap. “Better keep me close.”
The groan that Axel lets out—it sounds dredged from the bottom of his soul. He grabs my hips and grinds my ass down against his rock-hard bulge, bucking his own hips up to meet mine.
Yes.Thank god.
And it’s hot and strained and blurry, both of us clawing to get closer to the other, our desperate noises blending with the shoot-out in the Western movie. The itch under my skin is overwhelming now, making me whimper and writhe, and no matter how hard I cling to Axel’s body… it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.
My bodyguard grips a handful of my hair and draws my head back. I pant rapidly, watching him with hazy eyes, silently begging him todo it, whatever he’s considering, whatever he’s tempted by.Do it.
Axel growls, then lunges forward and kisses me hard.
His beard is softer than I expected, tickling my cheeks as we kiss. I plunge both hands into his messy dark hair and give as good as I get, nipping at his lower lip and sucking his tongue into my mouth.
Axel draws in a sharp breath and bucks up beneath me.
And hey, maybe I’m not experienced or polished at this, maybe I don’t have any fancy tricks or techniques, but I do havesomethinggoing for me: I kiss this man like he’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. The best thing I’ve ever felt. And best of all, it’s one hundred percent true, because kissing Axel is like those dreams I get sometimes where I can fly, swooping over the city rooftops.
“Jem.” He says my name like an oath, tilting my head to one side to kiss my neck. The scrape of his teeth makes my belly flutter.
“Uh-huh?”
“This is… you feel…”
“I know.” My nails rake down the front of Axel’s chest, whispering against his t-shirt. Did I leave a mark beneath the fabric? Even a faint one? “I know, I know.”
He flips me around without warning; rearranges me so we’re both facing the door with my back to his chest, my legs flopped out over his thighs. His breaths are heavy in my ear.
“So fucking pretty,” Axel says, cupping between my legs without any messing around. It sends a jolt through my whole body. “You know that, Jem? You’re so fucking pretty, it’s hard to look at you. Every time I do, it’s like my chest cracks open.”
His words run together, muttered against my neck, and I whine as Axel’s palm grinds against the crotch of my shorts. His hand is so big and broad and strong, so unlike how it feels when I cup my pussy myself, and my eyes flutter when I picture the calluses there, the patches of rough skin, the way his hand might feel pressed against me, completely bare—
“Andthis,” Axel grits out, squeezing my pussy even harder, practically shaking it to make his point. I’m a doll in his hands, and it’s so freaking hot I could wail. “Bet this tastes like heaven. Bet it’s all wet and sticky for me now. Isn’t it?”
The armchair creaks beneath our joined weight, and my breaths come in short, desperate pants. I nod feverishly, too worked up to speak. How long have we been rubbing on each other? One minute? Ten? Twenty?
Axel is so hot and hard against my back, the proof of his arousal digging mercilessly into my left ass cheek; he cages me against his chest with his strong, inked arms. I’m held and treasured and owned andhis, and whatever he wants to do to me right now, I’ll let him.
I trust this man.
And the relief of that is so powerful, it makes my knees weak. It’s been so long since I had another person to rely on, even temporarily. Even only for one night.
“You want me to touch it? Lick it?” Axel noses the patch of skin beneath my ear, rumbling out a laugh when I squirm. His beard is tickly. “Tell me what you want, princess. I’ll make you feel good.”
But: “I don’tknow,” I wail, bucking against his hand and gasping at the friction. “I don’t know. I’ve—I’ve never—”
“But you want it?”
“Yes.” The word hisses out of me, and maybe I’d be embarrassed by this whole display if I had space in my brain for a single rational thought. Instead, there’s only room for Axel, and how good he feels, and how if he stops touching me now, I’ll die.
“We’ll keep it simple, then,” Axel says, pulling his palm away so he can hook both thumbs in the waistband of my shorts. I raise my ass so he can drag them down my legs, my limbs trembling with arousal. “No need to get fancy on your first time.”
There are slick patches already on the insides of my thighs. They gleam in the light from the TV screen.
Behind me, Axel curses under his breath and drops my shorts to the rug.
This time, when he cups between my legs, he grinds his palm against my bare body. We both groan as he finds how slick I am, how swollen and needy, my hips bucking as I chase his touch.
“Easy,” Axel mutters, wrapping one arm around my waist and yanking me back into his lap—back against his chest, and with his hard bulge beneath my butt. Back where I freaking belong. “You’re gonna thrash right onto the floor.”
