Page 157 of Lovestruck at Sundown
“You don’t say.” He pushed up my tank top to reveal my breasts and took my nipple in his mouth, swirling circles around it with his tongue. His other hand slid inside my biker shorts to find me soaked with my arousal. “Fuuuck.” His fingers played around with my folds, teasing me, denying me momentarily what I wanted, only to make me crave it even more.
“So … what do I … tell him?” My back arched as an offering against his bare torso, craving for skin to meet skin. The pleasure was rising, hot and quick in my lower belly, liquifying my limbs and stealing my breath away.
God, I would never get enough of him. Never get enough ofthis. He had me at his mercy. Always.
“Tell him,” he whispered, his mouth pressing slow, tender kisses on my chest as he moved two fingers inside me, making me cry out a little. “That you’ll get back to him after you’re done … convincing me.” A small smile tugged at his face, and his mouth moved on mine so fast I couldn’t tell him that, at this rate, I wasn’t sure who was doing the convincing. The kiss was desperate, and he took and took and took. And I let him. I’d always give him everything I had to give.
He broke off the kiss and regarded me with dark, hooded eyes for a few long seconds. His gaze was filled with adoration as he relished the effect his hands, his mouth, his long, thick fingers, and his entire fucking body had on me when the world faded to black, and only the two of us existed.
“Take this off.” He tugged on my bunched-up sweatshirt with his free hand. And I did. Pulled it over my head. Tossed it on the floor.
My hand rubbed against the length of him, straining against his waistband as the pleasure inside me built, and built, and built, making my entire chest ache with pure blissful ecstasy. I trembled. He knew I was close. Knew my body better than I did my own, and at his will, I came undone in his hand, my orgasm making my body go slack beneath him.
His hands yanked down my shorts and my panties with a single tug and he discarded them behind him. I pulled down on his waistband, and he helped himself out of his sweatpants.
“Kneel and hold on to the headboard.” His words were an unmistakable command, and nothing turned me on more than giving up all control and handing it over to him. All of it.
He thrust inside me in one single stroke and immediately started moving at a steady, relentless pace that didn’t allow me to draw in a breath. That felt so damn good it made my hands slip a little from the grip I hadn’t been able to maintain.
“Hold. On,” he rasped out, retreating as he said that, only to slam into me again. Harder. Faster. Deeper.
“Make me,” I challenged between panting breaths, glancing over my shoulder to toss the teasing words at him, making his control snap.
“Someone’s a bit mouthy today.” He pressed his lips behind my ear, not giving me a single break to even catch up on the missing breaths from taking him deeper and deeper with each greedy and possessive thrust. “Let go of that headboard, and you won’t be coming again.”
I knew better than to disobey one of his commands. But I loved getting him riled up with a little playful defiance. Loved to toy around with the consequences. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips, and he kept on taking, and I kept on giving. I twisted my neck to catch his mouth, and he kissed me as I held on to that headboard for dear life.
His movements became jerkier with the threat of his release, and I broke off the kiss, my body telling me I was about to find mine. My nails dug into the headboard’s soft fabric, and my mouth parted as pleasure took over my entire body, and wave after wave of unrestrained ecstasy rolled through me. He followed soon after me, his body shuddering as he rode his orgasm until the end.
“Let go,” he whispered in my ear, slowly moving out of me. I fell on the bed on my side, and he collapsed in front of me. My hand cupped his face, then brushed a damp strand of his soft golden hair away from his forehead.
“So, what’s the dress code?” he asked with a laugh, running a warm fingertip down my shoulder all the way to my hips.
“So, are you sold for the gala?” I asked with a giggle, his eyes clear, bright, and trained on me.
“After that?” He made apshsound and kissed the edge of my mouth. “I’m sold for all of the galas.”
August 11, 2012
“Can you holdback my hair while I brush my teeth?” I had just had it styled into waves, and I didn’t want to use a hair tie to avoid leaving any marks.
“Sure.” William set his phone on the bathroom vanity to help me.
As I rinsed my mouth carefully to avoid messing with my makeup, William’s phone buzzed, making me glance at his screen.
Incoming call Arabella Rivers …
William disregarded it and kept holding my hair. I grabbed a towel to pat my mouth dry, and I asked, “Aren’t you going to take that?”
Why was Arabella Rivers, that co-star he used to go out with, calling William on a random Saturday evening out of the blue? My stomach turned when I remembered watching them kissing and having fake sex on the big screen the day of the premiere.
William released my hair and said, “No, I’m not.” He sent the call to voicemail. I wanted to ask him about it, but we were in a hurry and needed to leave soon to make it on time. I still needed to pack my clutch and put on my dress, shoes, perfume, and lipstick.
William was freshly shaved and ready to go, looking polished and elegant like the literal movie star he was in one of the many elegant black tuxes he owned.
When he had walked into my bedroom through the invisible door earlier, he had to say my name twice so I would snap out of the deep trance he had put me in after seeing him looking like that. His fresh, citrusy cologne alone almost made me fall to my knees.
We were in such a hurry that I didn’t even have time to feel jealous or ask the pertinent questions to put myself at ease. We needed to leave, or we were going to be late.
