“Is that what you want? To be fucked carefully? Or maybe you want some selfish prick who won’t bother to get you off?”
I wasn’t joking about what I told her the other night. I always make sure the girls I’m with get off first. It’s what keeps them coming back for more. Honestly, that’s part of the fun. And it always feels amazing when their tight little pussies spasm around my cock, choking the life out of it. Their breathy moans of pleasure are ultimately what sends me careening over the edge.
Her teeth rake over her plump lower lip.
“Is that what you like, baby? To be left hanging? Unsatisfied? Because I know exactly what guys my age are like. They’re horny little bastards who don’t know the first thing about pleasing a woman.” I tilt my head. “But you’ve already discovered that, haven’t you? You want a man who can make you come. One who knows his way around your body.” There’s a pause. “Am I right?”
She jerks her head into a barely perceptible nod.
“Give me your words, Sydney. I’ll be damned if I force you into something you don’t want.”
“I want it,” she says breathlessly.
You’re damn right she does. I could sense it in her from the very beginning. My guess is that no one else has ever given her what she needs. I’ll be the one who changes that.
Those three words are all it takes for my lips to crash into hers. Unlike our previous kisses, I don’t have to prod her into opening. My tongue sweeps inside her mouth, mingling and licking at hers. My fingers tighten around her slender wrists, forcing them into the book spines. Every hard line is pressed against her softer ones. Sydney’s body isn’t as lush as some of the other girls I’ve been with. She’s toned and strong.
Athletic.
It’s a major turn-on.
At this particular moment, I would be hard-pressed to offer up something I don’t find attractive about this girl. As soon as that thought pops into my brain, I push it to the outer recesses, not wanting to dwell on it or what it means. This is nothing more than sex. We can enjoy each other without having to attach any significance to it. Hell, I do it all the time.
The whimper that escapes from her makes my cock throb. The strict control I’ve always prided myself on falters. Sydney doesn’t realize how hard it’s been to hold myself back where she’s concerned. No other female has ever challenged me the way she does.
I nip at her plump lower lip before delving in for more. It’s only when I’ve had my fill of her mouth that I kiss a fiery trail to her jawline before licking and sucking my way down the column of her neck. She tilts her head, baring more of the delicate skin for me to feast on.
I gorge myself until she’s a quivering mess. The need to touch her thrums through me like that of a heavy drumbeat until it’s all I can focus on. I transfer both wrists to one hand. They’re thin enough for my fingers to wrap around. My other one drifts down her bare arm, before sliding around her sloped shoulder and settling over one breast. My palm is large enough to cover her entirely. She’s the perfect handful. Anything more would be a waste.
Unable to resist, I squeeze the soft flesh. It’s hard enough to elicit a gasp but not enough to cause pain. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt Sydney. All I’m trying to do is nudge her out of her comfort zone and heighten the pleasure I’m capable of giving her.
When I tighten my fingers for a second time, I lean closer, nipping at her throat, biting down upon it. The thickness of my erection digs into her belly. I want to fuck this girl so badly. I want to drive myself deep inside her tight heat until we’re both falling to pieces. I loosen my grip on her breast before my hand trails down to the button of her jeans where it hesitates for a beat. Her breathing picks up tempo.
With fear?
Or anticipation?
I’m willing to bet it’s excitement rushing through her veins at the idea of me touching her in such a public space. If it were anything else, all she’d have to do is push me away. One word and I would stop. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d respect her decision.
A long string of silent moments stretches between us. It only heightens the riotous intensity crackling in the air. Unable to wait another second, I flick the button of her jeans and drag down the fly. A shaky exhalation falls from her lips as I continue to kiss and lick her neck. Even if someone did happen to wander by and catch sight of us, my bigger body is pressed against hers, shielding her from prying eyes.
Hot shafts of need claw at me, attempting to find an escape. I’ve wanted to touch her like this for so long that it’s difficult to believe it’s actually coming to fruition. That Sydney now wants me in ways I’ve only dreamed about.
My fingers dip beneath the elastic band of her panties, grazing over her silky-smooth mound before sliding across her pussy. With my wrist, I press against her inner thighs in a silent command to widen her stance.
When she remains still, I lift my face from her neck and growl, “Open for me.”
She snaps to attention before stepping further apart and giving me room to maneuver. As soon as she does, I part her lower lips. One finger dips inside her heat.
Holy fuck.
A groan escapes from me as I bury my face against her throat and close my eyes. Her body might be all angles and toned muscle, but here? She’s so fucking plush. I can just imagine what it would feel like to drive myself deep inside her body and have her convulse around me.
It would be absolute heaven.
I thrust a few times before a second finger joins the first, widening her sheath. A whimper escapes from her mouth as she tilts her pelvis, silently begging for more. Perhaps she had been leery about making out behind the stacks, but that doesn’t seem to be the case any longer. Whatever inhibitions Sydney had been clinging to are long gone.
“Your pussy is already wet,” I whisper against the side of her face before pressing a kiss against it. “Is that all for me?”
She inhales an unsteady breath as our movements find a natural rhythm. Every time I drag my fingers from her body, her inner muscles clench, attempting to draw me back in again.
Is she even aware of it?
I wasn’t joking about her being soaked. I’m so turned on that I’m about to go off like a shot. And just to be clear, that’s never happened before.
When she remains silent, I prod her for an answer, needing her to admit the truth. “Is your pussy crying for me, Sydney?”
Instead of giving me a response, she bites her lip in an attempt to keep silent. If she thinks I’ll allow her to evade the question, she couldn’t be more wrong. I drag my fingers from her body and circle them around her clit before giving it a little pinch.
A gasp explodes from her.
“That’s not an answer,” I growl.
When I squeeze her for a second time, air rushes from her lungs. “Yes!”
My fingers slide through her slick heat to her opening. “Is all this cream for me?”
“Brayden...”
“Yeah, baby?” A beat of silence passes as I torment her flesh. She has no idea what I’m capable of, but she’s damn well going to find out. “You don’t like the dirty talk?”
I spear my fingers deep inside her until they’re buried to the hilt.
“I do.” Her forehead falls against my chest. “I like it a lot.”
“Deep down,” I whisper against her, “I knew you would.” All it was ever going to take was the right guy to come along and open the door so she could walk through it.
And you better believe I’m that guy.
A garbled sound escapes from her. Her harsh exhalations are music to my ears. It won’t take much more to push her over the edge.
“How badly do you want to get off?”
“Please...”
Instead of giving her what she wants, I tease her, pumping into her until she has no choice but to meet each thrust with the piston of her hips.
“I like the sound of my name when it’s choked from your lips. And when you beg?” I drive inside her with a
little more force. “It makes me fucking nuts.”
She whimpers as her muscles clench around my fingers as if to keep them secured in place.
With her head bowed, I’m unable to see her face. I’m desperate to catch a glimpse of her expression. The need to watch her fall apart beneath my touch pounds through me, refusing to be denied. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.
“Look at me,” I growl.
She lifts her forehead until her gaze collides with mine. Even though she never answered my question, I pick up the pace before slipping my fingers from her slick heat to circle her clit.
The way her eyes darken, emotion crashing inside them like thunder, I know she’s close to splintering apart.
And you know what?
So am I.
Even though this is the first time I’ve touched Sydney, I’ve catalogued every intake of breath, every flash of pleasure as it flickered across her face. All it will take is a little more pressure against her clit and—
Her head lolls back against the bookshelf as her eyelids flutter closed. Watching Sydney shatter is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. My heart clenches before hammering into overdrive. I have no idea what these strange sensations rampaging through me mean, and I can’t be bothered to inspect them more closely.
All I know is that this experience has only whetted my appetite for more.
Chapter Twenty
Sydney
A week has slid by since the encounter at the library.
I almost snort.
Encounter.
That sounds so...I don’t even know. I’m not sure what to call it. Him getting me off behind the stacks?
Sure, we’ll just go with that for the time being.
I thought our relationship might take a turn for the awkward after what happened. Strangely enough, it hasn’t. We’re still playing the part of happy couple while out in public, which means a lot of hand holding while walking to class or hanging out at parties. He’ll sling an arm casually around my shoulders and draw me close as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Is it weird that it’s beginning to feel that way?
Or that I miss his warmth when he’s not holding me?
My breath will catch as his masculine scent wraps around me, teasing my senses. It’s a cross between the ocean, citrusy sunshine, and something that is uniquely Brayden. There are times when I catch myself burrowing into the solid strength of him, almost forgetting this is an act we’re putting on.
When I’m jarred back to reality, I force myself to step away. I can’t allow myself to forget that this is nothing more than an exchange of services. I’m his pretend girlfriend. He’s assisting with my art project. We’re both getting something we need out of this arrangement. Although, I suspect that the modeling isn’t a hardship for him. The guy seems to enjoy shedding his clothes and being full-on naked. He’d strut around in front of a crowd with no problem at all.
All right, I’ll admit it. It’s not exactly difficult to stare at that well-honed body for hours at a time. The guy is definitely built.
My gaze rises from the sketch pad to the man standing in front of me. Drawing him, shading in all his musculature is an absolute pleasure. I would never admit this to him, but I’ll be sad when we wrap this up. The process has gone better than I expected. Since we’re both in school and play a sport, our schedules mirror each other and it’s easy to carve out time to get together.
I pick up a different charcoal pencil before filling in more detail. Then I flip over the thick sheet and start a new one. The more pieces I have to choose from for the final portfolio, the better off I’ll be. My fingers move swiftly over the paper, forming the lines of his body before shading in the specifics. Bone structure. Muscles. Ligaments.
“Do you mind if I stretch for a minute?” he asks, breaking into my thoughts. “I’m getting a little stiff.”
My attention drops to his cock.
“Not there,” he says with a snort.
Color slams into my cheeks that I’ve been caught checking out his package. Normally, I’m able to remove myself from the situation and get into the frame of mind where I can stare at his body and not think of Brayden in a sexual manner. It’s the same way you can stare at a piece of art or sculpture of a naked form and appreciate it solely for its beauty without getting turned on.
He chuckles when I avert my gaze to the sketch pad and pretend to examine the drawing. It’s a low sound that strums something deep inside.
Brayden has the rare ability to make me feel like a stupid schoolgirl, and that’s not who I am.
Like, at all.
I was sixteen years old and a junior in high school when I had sex for the first time. That was five years and many boyfriends ago. He shouldn’t be able to affect me so easily.
Maybe it’s because I’ve always been the aggressor in relationships. I’ve taken control and set the pace, deciding what happened. That, however, isn’t the way my pseudo-relationship with Brayden has unfolded. Since the beginning, he’s the one who’s assumed control and called all the shots.
Maybe that’s the issue. Maybe I need to wrestle a bit of power away from him and then everything else will fall into place. Instead of feeling at a disadvantage, I’ll have leveled the playing field.
The idea churns in my head as my gaze lifts to his, watching as he stretches his arms overhead. The long, lean lines of his muscles lengthen. The image he makes hits me like a punch to the gut before settling like a heavy stone in my core. I’ve never felt this kind of intense physical attraction to someone before.
Making a snap decision, I toss the sketch pad aside. Enough work has been accomplished for the day. With my gaze locked on Brayden, I rise from the chair I’m perched on. As soon as I do, his gaze sharpens. Other than his arms falling back to his sides, he doesn’t move, only continues to watch me through hooded lids.
When I’m no more than a foot away, I raise both hands before settling my palms against the warm flesh of his chest and the sinewy muscle that lies beneath. Even though I have yet to explore his body physically, I feel intimately acquainted with it. I could describe every ridge and contour in glorious detail. Every dip and swell. I’ve spent so many hours staring at him that my fingertips itch to discover the firm flesh for themselves. I want to feel every hard line instead of simply capturing them on paper.
My gaze falls, needing to study him up close and personal. It no longer matters if he’s watching me from beneath the thick fringe of his dark lashes. He stands perfectly still as my palms drift upward, gliding across hard pectorals and over sculpted shoulders. I move from his tightly corded neck to his powerful arms before smoothing them over the bulge of his biceps.
Unwilling to end my perusal, I reverse the motion until my palms once again arrive at his broad chest. Even though he remains immobile, his heart picks up its tempo, thumping faster.
Is it my touch that causes this reaction?
The thought is a heady sensation.
My gaze lifts, flickering to his. The heat that fills his eyes is enough to scald me alive.
Instead of moving upward again, my palms descend, floating over washboard abdominals. They are so damn tight. Hard as a rock. I can almost imagine how many hours Brayden must put in at the gym. This isn’t the kind of physique you get just showing up for practice every day. Hours’ worth of work have sculpted every tightly honed muscle. My body is trim, but I don’t have this kind of impressive definition. I have neither the time nor commitment to achieve it.
As my fingers slide downward, my gaze follows their path. Just like he accused earlier, I’m eating him up with my eyes. I can’t help myself. On each side of his lower abdomen are the chiseled lines of a V that look as if they’ve been carved from marble. They’re like a brightly lit Vegas Strip sign, arrowing toward his thick erection.
Another punch of arousal slams into me, nearly knocking the breath from my lungs. Everything about this man is beautiful. Even his coc
k. That’s not something I’ve ever thought before, but it’s true where Brayden is concerned.
My hands gravitate lower until my fingers can wrap around his hard shaft. Carefully, I stroke him from the root to the very tip before repeating the movement. His cock is steel encased in silk. I’m captivated by the sight of it.
“Fuck,” he groans.
I tip my chin until my gaze can capture his. There’s a heavy-lidded look to him. His eyelids are lowered to half-mast as he watches me from beneath them.
Now that I’ve spent time learning the feel of Brayden, the need to taste him thrums through me until it’s all I can think about. I close the little bit of distance that separates us until my lips are pressed against his sternum. A deep groan rumbles up from his chest. I feel the low vibration of it as my lips hover over his flesh. My tongue darts out to lick him. He tastes fresh and clean as if he showered right before arriving on my doorstep.
Following the same path my fingers took moments ago, I caress him with my mouth, nipping at his skin and the taut muscle that lies beneath. Every inch of him is sculpted perfection. When I reach his navel, I drop to my knees and sit back on my heels before surveying him from this angle. His powerfully built legs are braced apart as if he’s attempting to steady himself on a roiling ship. I’ve witnessed him on the football field and watched how explosive his movements can be when he bursts into action.
At twenty-one years of age, Brayden is all man. There is nothing boyish about him. Desire ignites in my core and dampens my panties. My fingers trail over the crinkly hair that is sprinkled across both his thick thighs and chiseled calves. Every part of him is rock solid.
My gaze fastens on the rigid length standing proudly to attention. A bead of moisture has gathered at the tip. Unable to resist, I lean forward and swipe my tongue across it. Another rumble escapes from him.
Earlier, I had been embarrassed to be caught staring at his dick. Now, I want to look my fill and commit it to memory. My fingers trace over the thickened length, circling over the blunt tip before sliding back to the root. As fascinated as I am by his erection, I can’t resist brushing my fingertips over the heaviness of his balls and learning their texture.
Campus Heartthrob (The Campus Series Book 2) Page 14
