“How do you want me fuck you?” he asked, lowering his face over hers as his finger found her clit. Her lips parted and her eyelids drooped as he played with her. She was already wet, he realized, as he brushed his lips over hers.
So goddamn hot.
“Hard,” she whispered, her husky voice rough around the dirty word.
“Okay,” he said, rolling the pad of his finger over her sensitive bud. Her breath hitched in her throat and her eyelids fluttered.
“Now,” she demanded, tangling her fingers in his shirt. He sucked her lower lip between his teeth and bit down lightly. He wasn't in the mood to play with her, though. She might like to draw it out, but he couldn't. He hadn't fucked her in over a week. Jerking off in his hand had only fanned the flames. He slid his hand out from between her legs and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her into the living room, and she trotted behind him on her high-heels, in just as much of a rush as he was. He yanked her around to face him and she stumbled into him. He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her hard and she moaned into him, pressing her soft tits against his chest. Fuck, he wanted to see her naked. He wanted to suck and kiss and lick every inch of her body.
But first, he was going to bend her over and fuck her hard, because that's what she'd asked him to do. He broke the kiss, even though he loved the feel of her lips against his. However, he was too damn impatient. He shoved her jeans over the swell of her ass and she moved her hips, helping him. She put her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself as she kicked off her boots. Then she shoved her jeans down her legs and kicked them off, leaving her legs bare. She stood before him in a little pair of black panties and her droopy white sweater. He wanted her naked, but he was impatient.
She squealed as he twirled her around and pushed her over so that her beautiful ass was in the air. She gripped the rolled arm of the leather couch, digging her fingernails in. He forced her legs open with his knees and she let gasped in a sharp breath. He stepped back for a minute to admire the vision in front of him. He licked his lips wanting to fuck her so much it hurt. But he had to be smart about it. The thought of sliding into her raw again was so tempting, but he had condoms in the bedroom. He ran his hand up her thigh to her ass, forcing himself to get control.
“Is this what you want?” he asked. She arched her back and nodded enthusiastically, her hair hiding her face from him. “Good,” he said, barely controlling himself. He forced himself to take a step back, letting the lust ebb through him. Then he turned and walked to the bedroom, as calmly as possible. He found the condoms in his top drawer and grabbed one. Unwrapping the little foil packet, he stopped in the doorway of the bedroom, basking in the sight of her. She still stood where he left her, waiting for him. She raised a hand and slowly pushed her hair out of her face. Her eyes caught his and he saw that she was just as impatient as he was.
He shoved the waistband of his workout pants down over his hips, letting his cock free. He rolled the condom over himself as he walked closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers. She looked like she wanted to eat him alive, and he imagined he looked identical. His cock needed to be buried inside of her and he was done waiting. When he reached her, he grabbed her hips and pulled her back against him. She moaned, the honeyed sound sending electricity shooting down his spine all the way to his balls. He ran his hand between her legs, sliding the thin fabric of her panties aside. She rolled her hips as he slid a finger deep inside of her.
She gasped and he ground his teeth, his whole body focused on the the tightness of her, the way she pulled his finger deeper and clenched around him. He thought about the way she'd made him finger-fuck her. He'd thought about it everyday since she'd done it. Every day, she'd tortured him with memories of her pretty pussy and her soft moans and her suckable nipples. He pulled his finger out and angled his cock against her, sliding the head of him up and down her wet slit. He'd dreamt of this moment for days and he wasn't going to waste any more time. Bucking his hips, he thrust hard, forcing himself inside of her deep.
His mouth dropped open as sheer, sharp pleasure shot through him. She was slick and hot and tight and maddening. Her muscles rippled around him and she made a strangled sound as he reared back and thrust into her again. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest as she took every inch of him. She screamed, muffling her cry against her arm. Her body went stiff and her knees locked. He tightened his grip on her hips, keeping her steady against him.
“It's so big,” she moaned and he felt his dick swell inside of her. Fuck, she knew what to say to a man to make him hard. He slammed into her, not able to stop himself. She called out, pushing her ass back into him, like she wanted everything he had to give. And he wanted to give it to her. So much. He thrust into her hard, letting all of the frustration of the past week drain out of him. He had so much pent-up energy and all of it was for her.
She dropped onto her elbows on the couch cushion and he leaned over her, thrusting hard until she screamed. He swerved his hips, grinding his pelvis against her soft ass. She moaned like she was losing her mind and he was right there with her. There was nothing on his mind but fucking her senseless. His whole body was attuned to his cock and her pussy. Every ripple of her muscles and every gasp and jerk of her hips let him know she was closer and closer to climax. He reached down and pushed her thighs together, squeezing her around him. He grunted like an animal as her warm body pulsed around him. She threw her head back, her hair cascading over her shoulders. He ran his hand down her spine, under her sweater. He didn't know if he would ever forget over how soft her skin felt. It was like silk. He wanted her body wrapped around his. He wanted her arms around his neck and her thighs around his hips. He wanted all of her.
Making the decision in a split-second, he reared back, pulling out of her. He gritted his teeth as every cell in his body protested against it and she whimpered as well, lifting her foot and curling her toes in distress. She threw a questioning glance over her shoulder at him, but he didn't take the time to answer her. He slid an arm around her waist and lifted her off the couch in a quick movement. She squealed as he hoisted her up and carried her to his bedroom. He tossed her lightly on his big bed and she landed with a little gasp. His dick bobbed in front of him, crying out for her attention, but he ignored it. He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it into the corner. She followed suit, yanking off her sweater and then reaching around herself to unhook her bra.
He kicked off his pants, then climbed on the bed as she slid her bra down her arms. He grabbed the red lacy thing and threw it behind him. It was sexy, but her bare body was even more so. She stared up at him with wide, excited eyes as he hooked his fingers in the thin waistband of her panties. She nodded and he slid the last bit of fabric off her body. She lifted her hips for him and he pulled the panties down her legs and right off. For a minute all he could do was admire her. For the first time, she was completely naked in front of him. Her body was beautiful, all lush curves and smooth skin. Her tits were full and heavy, the nipples dark and round and made for his mouth. “We're done playing,” he said, dragging his gaze up and down her body.
“But I like to play with you,” she said, her voice breathier than usual. Then she rolled over, pushing up onto her hands and knees. “I want more, Tate,” she said. He didn't know if he would ever get over hearing her say his name and those words. She had such a sexy voice, amongst other things. He put his hands on her hips and spread her swollen pussy lips open. Then he leaned forward and ran his tongue slowly up her slit, finally getting a taste of her. She was sweet, but salty, and he moaned, swirling his tongue over her clit and back. “Oh my God,” she hissed. “I can't...” she trailed off, dropping her forehead to the mattress.
He licked and sucked her, loving how she writhed against his mouth. “Tate,” she moaned, muffling her voice in his blanket. At her tone, something shattered inside of him. Whatever willpower he had was officially gone. He levered up and his cock moved toward her pussy like a honing
beacon. She screamed into the mattress as he thrust into her again, stretching and filling her just like both of them wanted. He slammed into her over and over again, the sound of their bodies coming together ringing in his ears. He leaned over her, pressing his chest to her back and hooked his hand around her shoulder and thrust into her like a man possessed.
All of the frustration and need poured out of him as he fucked her. She jerked and bucked against him, meeting each of his thrusts with her own. He brought his other hand around to strum her clit and she let out a strangled cry. She curled her toes and arched her back and he knew she was close. Her pussy clamped down on his cock and he ground into her, not letting up. He didn't care that it was going to be a quick fuck. He would love her longer later. All he cared about was making it good. In fact, he wanted it to be the best fucking orgasm of her life. His male ego begged for it. And his cock begged as well.
“Don't stop,” she whispered. “Oh God, don't stop.”
“I love your pussy too much to stop,” he said, not even thinking about what he was saying. The words pushed their way out. She gasped, raising her foot off the mattress and pointing her toes. Her fingernails dug into the blanket and he knew she was on the brink. “Shay,” he said, loving the feel of her name on his tongue. “You're so goddamn beautiful.” She let out a strangled cry and then her whole body went rigid. She jerked her hips away from him, almost dislodging him by the strength of her climax. But he held her tight. He dropped his mouth to her shoulder, biting her skin lightly and riding her through her orgasm, pumping slowly as her pussy pulsed and flexed around him.
Finally, when her muscles relaxed and the orgasm had gone, she slumped forward, pressing her cheek to the mattress. Her foot dropped back down limply. “Tate,” she whispered again, like she was in awe. That was all it took. The thought of how much he'd pleasured her sent him over the edge. The shock of his orgasm took him off guard. He gritted his teeth as his cock exploded inside of her. He wished there was no condom between them. He wished he was shooting all of his hot come into her. The thought of filling her up milked his orgasm longer and longer. He bucked into her hard and her limp body collapsed under him. He followed her down, rolling them over on their sides to avoid crushing her beneath his weight. He hooked her leg over his thigh and slid deep again, not able to stop. He wasn't done yet. He'd waited too long for it to be over so quickly. He pulled her close and pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck, bracing himself for one last thrust. She moaned low and long as he pumped and ground his hips into her, riding out the last perfect moments of his orgasm.
When it was over, he realized he'd been holding his breath and he sucked in air. His heart drummed in his chest and he just lay there beside her for a long while, his eyes closed and his body throbbing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd fucked like that, if ever. Shay Spears was on another level, he realized.
He didn't know if he'd ever had it that good.
He groaned as he rolled over onto his back, pulling the condom off and letting it drop over the side of the bed. He would worry about it later. He was too out of it to care about stupid details like that. When he got his bearings again, he stole a look at her. She had her face turned away from him, laying on her stomach with one foot in the air. He watched her back rise and fall with every breath she took. He let his eyes trace the S-curve of her spine down to her smooth ass, already wondering when he would be up to fucking her again.
Suddenly, she pushed up on her elbows and turned her face toward him, pushing her hair out of her eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment, the silence loaded. The sex between them had been incredible, but he had no fucking idea what was going to happen next. He didn't know what she had in store for him, if anything. She let out a slow breath before reaching out and poking his arm with one long purple nail.
“You really think I'm beautiful?” she asked, an oddly innocent look in her eyes. In that moment, she was different. Vulnerable. He saw her youth for a brief second, then it was gone again. “No. Don't answer that,” she added, quickly, pushing herself up to sitting. He had an intuition that she was going to try to leave, so he didn't give her the option. Instead, he launched up and caught her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back down. She didn't try to fight him. She simply went with the flow, molding her body against his and pressing her cheek against his chest. “What are you doing?” she asked groggily, even as she closed her eyes.
“I don't say things I don't mean,” he said, yanking the side of the blanket up to cover them, halfway, so that heir legs hung out from under the down comforter.
“So you do think I'm beautiful?” she hedged, her muscles relaxing against him.
“I said it, didn't I?” he asked.
“Hmm,” she murmured, shifting onto her side and resting her head on his bicep. He didn't respond, just focused on the way her body felt against his. He hadn't ever had a woman in his bed, he realized. Not this particular bed, anyway. It was a lot of firsts that night. First time having a woman in his apartment. First time having a woman in his bed. Not just any woman either. Shay Spears, of all people. Strange. A thought suddenly occurred to him.
“You think my dick is big?” he asked, a sly smile curling over his lips as he remembered the words she'd said in the heat of passion.
“You know it is,” she murmured, and he snorted, not able to contain a cocky-ass laugh.
“How big is it?” he asked, just to fuck with her.
“Oh hush,” she said, smacking his arm lightly. “I'm not going to answer that.”
“Fair enough,” he said, not able to contain a wide smile.
***
Shay rolled over on the soft mattress, throwing her arm over her eyes when a bright light shone into them. She yawned, the realization coming over her that she was naked. Very naked. She dropped her arm and rolled her head to the side to look around. She was still at Tate's, she realized, as her eyes adjusted to the light. The bedside lamp was on and she looked around the room. Before, it'd been dark, but now she could see where she was. His bed was big, a king-sized she guessed, covered in a fluffy, light gray comforter. Three of the walls were a dark slate blue and one was exposed brick. The bedframe was metal, and the other furniture—two bedside tables and a dresser—were sturdy wood. It was a simple room, but it seemed like him. Manly. Uncomplicated. Serious. She wrapped her arms around herself, leaning forward to glance out the door into the living room. She didn't see him out there and he surely wasn't in the bedroom.
Scooting to the edge of the bed, she looked around on the floor for her clothes. She found her sweater and leaned over the side to grab it. She had to get home she decided, as she pulled it over her head. There was no way she was going to spend the night with Tate Grayson. That was something she just couldn't do. The sex was above and beyond, but she'd known it would be. The night in the salon was just a taste of what he was capable of. He fucked with a passion that was almost scary. The words he'd said and the way he touched her and the way he'd thrown her around like she weighed nothing – it was intense. She didn't know how to describe it any other way. He'd made it so easy to get lost in him and she had. She supposed it was her fault for teasing him for so long, but now she was the one who was left wanting. Her whole body was calling out for more.
She didn't know when she would recover.
Shay didn't have much sexual experience, but damn, he was on some next level shit. The boys she'd fucked as a teenager in no way compared. Hearing his gruff voice in his ear while he thrust his big dick in and out of her... well, that had been almost too much. She'd almost gone out of her mind. Her orgasm had been nothing like the self-indused ones she was used to. It was wilder, harder, less contained. More all-encompassing. She was already becoming an addict. She saw how her aunt acted around her new paramours, like good sex was the utmost, most important thing. Shay had always thought she knew better. There were things more important than sex. Self-reliance, independence, education. Those were the important thi
ngs in life. But now she wasn't so sure. The only thing she was sure of was that she was complicating everything by fucking him, but she couldn't seem to help herself.
“What are you doing?” his voice cut through her thoughts. She jumped and glanced up, like he'd caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. He was standing in a doorway to a room adjacent to the bedroom, which was apparently a bathroom. He was wearing only a dark gray towel slung low on his hips. Drops of water glittered on his chest and in his short, cropped hair.
“Getting dressed,” she said, like it was obvious. He didn't respond, just clicked his tongue and sauntered across the room. He pulled the towel off and tossed it onto a chair in the corner and she sucked in a breath, because he was so damn beautiful it was almost hard to look at him. In the low light, his muscular body was highlighted to perfection. She didn't want to look, but she couldn't help but study him and memorize every limb. She'd never been with a guy like him before. She'd never even found a white guy attractive before Tate. Even though he claimed he technically wasn't white, he still looked like it. In her old life, she never would have even considered him. But times had changed. Besides, Tate was worth it, as far as Shay was concerned. He had proved it.
Unfortunately, like everything in life, their night together was coming to an end. She had to cut herself off cold turkey, or she knew it was only going to go from bad to worse. So she forced herself to stop studying him. Instead, she searched for her clothes. She spied her bra on the floor close to his foot and she held out her hand. “Can you hand me that?”
“No,” he said, stopping at the foot of the bed.
“Why not?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
Spitfire Suckerpunch (House of Pain Book 2) Page 17
