I want to be the good guy, to let her taste the glory of being admired, but at some point soon, I want to be the one who has her attention. And enough’s enough. I close the distance between us, working my way through the crowd.
“C’mon, guys, she needs to get upstairs and file her pictures along with my report ASAP. Worldwide is asking and wants it while the story’s hot.”
The group groans but backs off because they know I’m right. Within seconds, Beaux is following me across the lobby without a single word exchanged between us besides my name. The elevator opens as we near it, and although I usually prefer the stairs, I walk into the empty car, knowing that my body is so pent-up with need right now that I won’t be able to make it more than a few flights up without giving in to the pull of desire on me.
“Whose room?” It’s the only thing I say, my voice strained, my body vibrating from her proximity.
“Mine,” she says cautiously. “All of my equipment is there so I can upload and —”
“Fine.” I push the button just as the doors to the car shut, and I brace my hands on the wall in front of me, eyes closed as I concentrate on controlling everything that I can because I know the minute I have her alone, that restraint will snap.
The tension in the car between us thickens. The current of desire is so palpable, I feel like it kick-starts my heart every other beat. I blow out a breath as the elevator ascends, Beaux shifting her feet beside me.
“Did I do something wrong?”
I snort. Fuck yes. But where do I even begin to explain? You made me want you? You made me worry when I told myself I wasn’t going to put myself in that situation ever again? You fucking don’t ever listen about not going off on your own? I want you so goddamn bad right now that the desire is so sharp, it’s painful.
The elevator dings, and I stride off the car to her door without looking back to see if she’s following. My body just knows she is.
It takes her a moment to fumble with her bag, get her room key out, and open her door, all the while casting curious glances my way.
“Put the camera down,” I order the minute we’re inside the door and it’s shut.
“What is your problem —?” she asks, but the question is cut off the second the camera strap leaves her hand, my body crashing into hers and pushing her up against the wall behind her. My lips find hers instantly.
It takes her a millisecond for the shock to fade and for her to respond, but once she does, we meet in a savage union of frenzied hands gripping, mouths taking, bodies begging to join in every way possible.
Beaux weaves her fingers in my hair and holds tight as she tears her mouth momentarily from mine. “I thought you were pissed at me.”
I kiss her fiercely, all tongue and teeth and possession, before I respond. “I’m furious. But I want you more.” It’s as true a statement as I’ve ever given, the moment stripping away any superfluous words. “You came back to me.”
“I’ll always come back to you,” she says, her voice breathless but resolute. And a part of me feels a tiny iota of relief from her words before my senses are shaken and upended when a moan falls from her mouth as my hand finds its way down her pants and I use my one foot to knock her legs wider so that I can have better access. I may be completely consumed with her kiss and taken with the possession of her touch, but there is no mistaking her desire as my fingers run over the tight strip of curls. Her gasp fills the space between us as I part her cleft to find her heated and wet for me.
Jesus Christ. If I didn’t want her enough already, feeling her push her hips into my hands makes that want turn into a need that somehow I feared wouldn’t be satisfied anytime soon. We’ve built up to this moment for so long that I know as hard as I try to hold on to control, as much as I try to slow down, every nerve in my body is at such a riotous fever pitch that it’s going to be impossible not to succumb to the urgency.
Then Beaux shocks me back to reality by saying, “I need you in me right now.”
And that’s what I want more than anything, to be buried in her. Yes, my hand is already between the lips of her pussy, but I need more of her, want all of her, naked and accessible.
“Tanner.” My name leaves her lips as a plea, a moan, and everything in between when she releases her hold on me and moves to help tug her shorts down. But just her shorts aren’t enough. I want all of her clothes off. She must feel the same way because, without a word, we begin an awkward dance toward the bed, an unspoken race to see which of us can get undressed quicker as we cover the few feet of distance. And just as she has her bra off so that we are both completely naked, I grab her from behind and pull her back against my chest.
As desperate as I am to bury myself in her, I also need to slow this down just a bit. Last time she came hard and quick, and as desperate as I am to do the same, I know that this will be our first second time that now holds meaning, and so I don’t want to make it any less than it could be by making it quick. Our labored breathing fills the air as my hands cup her breasts and I scrape the stubble on my chin across the curve of her shoulder and up to her ear. The sound of her sighing out my name is so fucking hot, it’s an aphrodisiac all in itself.
“Beaux.” Her name is all I say before I lace openmouthed kisses down the line of her neck, tasting salt on my tongue, while her perfume and the smell of her arousal assault my senses in an oddly arousing combination as I work my way to the other side of her neck. “I’ve had so many thoughts about what I was going to do with you once we had sex again. How I was going to slide between your thighs, tease you with my tongue until you were breathless and spent. Make you beg for more… but that game’s on me, isn’t it? Because right now I’m so goddamn primed, I’d beg, borrow, and steal to take you, and I think that’s just what you want. For me to take without asking, because that’s what you’re used to. Well, think again…,” I murmur in her ear, and leave the last word hanging as my hands slide down her abdomen once again to the pleasure between her thighs.
The hitch in her breath and the voluntary lift of one foot onto the bed so that I have better access tell me she feels this too, wants this too. “How do you like it, Beaux? Do you like when I slide my fingers right here, rub a little harder… faster… or do you like when I bury my fingers in your pussy and stroke right here?”
And I do just that, dip my two fingers inside her so that she tightens around me at the same time as her hands dig into my forearms when the sensations swamp her.
And I love feeling the intense reaction, take pride in knowing I can make her stop everything, and break her concentration with just my touch. Then I curl my fingers and rake them over the interior patch of nerves again as my other hand slides around her waist just in time for her knees to weaken. There is something so intimate about the moment, so real, that it throws me momentarily and causes her to lean back so that my cheek rests against hers.
“More,” she moans, and I begin to manipulate her sex again, fingers on the inside, thumb on her clit. Her head lolls back on my shoulder and her hips jut forward, a physical command telling me to give her more. I work my fingers in and out of her, desire growing, my thumb adding friction on her clit, her own writhing motion showing me just how she wants me to bring her to the cusp. With each thrust of her pelvis, she’s rubbing her ass against my rock-hard dick in the ultimate temptation I’m sure as hell going to take advantage of.
Her fingernails dig deeper into my skin, an indication that she’s almost there, so I keep manipulating her sex. “Argh. God,” she cries, hips bucking against my hand, hands trying to push and pull my forearms all at the same time as the pleasurable pain overwhelms her body and annihilates her senses. The sound of her coming undone is enough to make every part of me ache like a man on fire walking knowingly into the flames.
And I was so wrong, it’s comical. I thought I could take this slow, calm this ravenous hunger inside me, but the minute she comes, hips writhing, lips calling my name like a plea and a curse all at the same time, I lose it. Fuck slowing down. We can do slow all damn day later… but right now? Right now I’m a man desperate and ready to give in to the desire owning his every nerve.
She rides out her orgasm with my teeth nipping her shoulder and hands holding her hips tight so that she’s forced to feel everything pulsing through her. But the minute I feel her body sag, muscles start to relax, I spin Beaux around in my arms and push her down onto the bed. She scoots back up the mattress, eyes wild with desire under heavy lust-laden lids that call to me, tempt me, dare me to come and take what she’s offering. And there’s no question, I’m definitely ready to take.
Lust and greed hit me in a potent combination as I stand at the foot of the bed and take her in. As much as I could stand here all day long and drink in the lines of her body, the dark pink of her nipples against her bronze skin, I’ll savor it later. Much later. I’m already way past the point of no return.
So I kneel on the bed, which causes the mattress springs to squeak beneath my weight, my tongue darting out to wet my bottom lip in anticipation. As I crawl between her parted thighs, the urge to slide my tongue along her sex and taste her is so all-consuming, but at the same time, all I can think about is what she’s going to feel like wrapped around me.
But what man can resist a pussy when it’s framed by legs like hers?
On my hands and knees I give in to what I want and dip my head down so that my tongue slides just along the seam of her lips. There is nothing that turns me on more than the scent and taste of a woman aroused, and Beaux is… holy shit between her taste on my tongue and her moan filling my ears, I can’t hold back anymore.
I lick my way up and down one more time with my hands holding her inner thighs apart as she squirms at the sensation of me dipping my tongue into her. And I’d stay here all night if I could, but as my rock-hard cock rubs against the mattress beneath me, my body reminds me how much it’s being neglected in the moment. Giving in to my own needs, I rise up on my knees with my hands still on her thighs and meet her eyes.
And I know we’ve had sex before, but there is something that feels very different this time around. There is no alcohol, no ignorance over who the other is, no feigning that this is a one-night stand I will never see again. No. This time as I press her thighs forward so I can slide painstakingly slowly into her, I don’t notice her lips part or her chest hitch from her slow breaths. Instead, I watch the pleasure wash over her as her eyes roll partially back in rapture before returning to mine with emotions swimming in them I’m not sure I want to process.
So I don’t.
Instead, I bury myself all the way to the hilt, all trains of thought overwhelmed by the physical sensations, and all sense of self lost because there is no me and no her; no, there’s just us. A feral groan fills the room; even though it’s my voice, I don’t even realize I’ve emitted it when I start that slow, slick slide out so that just the tip of my dick is allowed the pleasure of her. Talk about torturing myself, but the little sound she makes begging for me not to stop is worth it. So I give her what she wants. I use my hand to hold my dick still, rub the ridge of my crest up with an added pressure over that sweet spot I can feel just inside her. I tease and taunt her like she’s been doing to me since we started this way back on night one, but this… This is just so much more.
Once she starts lifting her hips and squeezing tightly around me, I have to hope my willpower will hold long enough so that I can give her what she needs. Because I know once I bury myself in her, I won’t be able to stop the freight train of desire bearing down on me.
When I look into her eyes again, there is no mistaking it as she nears her orgasm. I watch her come undone – bit by bit, moan after moan, muscle by muscle. And I know she hasn’t finished coming yet, but fucking hell, I feel like a vise is wrapped around my balls, that deep, sweet ache so damn intense, my fingers begin to dig into the toned flesh of her thighs to try and ward off the carnal need to plunder.
"Hard Beat" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Hard Beat". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Hard Beat" друзьям в соцсетях.