Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(68)
I'm blushing even though I have no clue why, but I don't acknowledge it, spinning to face Zayden with a smile as I point up at my eyebrow. It really does look great on me, the perfect little accent for an otherwise plain face.
“Based on how good this looks, if I ever do decide to bite the bullet and get my V pierced, I'll make sure to fly down to Vegas just for the privilege.” Zayden smiles at me, clasping his hands together behind his neck as he looks me over. “Maybe you could show me around the city or something sometime?”
“I'd like that,” Zay says as he looks me over carefully, smiling when his gaze comes to rest on my eyebrow. “I bet the boys in the shop would like to meet you, too. They're all smarter than me, too. The owner, Jude, has a degree in veterinary medicine. You'd probably get along great.”
I laugh and pull my hair back into a ponytail at the base of my neck, brushing my bangs aside so I can see my new jewelry, turning this way and that as it winks in the light. I'm so focused on my reflection that I don't notice Zay moving up behind me, sliding his hands up my thighs and under my skirt.
The cool, waxy sensation of the gloves is so different that I gasp and fall forward, putting my hands against the sink to brace myself. When I look up, Zay's grinning mischievously at me in the mirror, sliding his fingers to my opening and using the slick wetness that's already there to tease me. Even though I can't see his hand, I can feel that glove, can imagine the darkness of it slicking over his hand as he plays with my folds.
I watch his face as he slips a pair of fingers inside of me, sending this erotic chill through my whole body that has my skin breaking out into goose bumps. The sensation amps up when he leans his muscular body over mine and uses his other hand to pull my shirt and bra away from my left breast, cupping the sensitive flesh in one black gloved hand.
My face fills with heat and my body rocks back into his hand, enjoying the subtle manipulation of his fingers against my core. When he introduces a third finger and slicks it across my ass, I tighten up a little.
“Relax,” Zayden whispers as he massages my breast with one hand, my ass and * with the other. “I won't take it too far, I promise.”
He teases and manipulates me, pinching my nipple and alternating between finger f*cking me and playing with my clit. When he finally slips that single, wet finger into my ass, I groan and shudder as new sensations ripple over me, a completely different sort of warmth filling my body.
It feels like there are strings from my nipples, my clit, my *, my ass, that all connect straight to the base of my spine, twisting energy together in an explosive orgasm.
“Do you like that, baby?” he asks me, but I can't answer. Can barely breathe.
Zayden's putting some gentle pressure against the wall between his fingers, that sensitive strip that connects my * and my ass. I almost come right then, but he stops me at the last second by pulling away and leaving me gasping.
“Turn around,” he commands, moving his kit from the sink onto a shelf behind him. I do as he asks and let him use his left arm to take me by the waist, lifting me up onto the counter. My back leans against the mirror as Zayden steps between my legs and puts his right hand against my silken core. This time, I can look down and see the black fingers of his gloves slipping into me, teasing wetness onto the latex. That third finger slips back into my other opening and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. No way I'm letting that weird Shotgun Pot Guy hear me getting fingered.
Zayden leans in and captures my mouth, shifting his body as close as he can get it without interrupting the motion of his hand. We kiss sharp and fierce and hungry as his left hand finds my breast again and I look down to see all of that darkness obscuring the tattoos on his arm, kneading the pale round globe, pinching the pebbled pink of my nipple.
My hips arch up into his hand and Zayden chuckles.
“Fuck me,” I say, wanting him to feel good, too, feeling self-conscious that I'm the only one writhing like an idiot.
“I am,” he whispers against my ear, and then he picks up the pace, slamming his knuckles into me and sending sharp thrills into the base of my spine where all that energy's stored. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck, trying to ride this out, to wait for him to undo his pants and push inside of me with his cock.
But he doesn't, watching me with half-lidded eyes as I find my pleasure with his hand.
I think his face in that moment is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.
When I come, I can't help it, I tilt my head back and let out the loudest, deepest, most embarrassing sound of my entire life, shuddering and bucking against Zayden as I come hard and fast around his fingers.
He waits there as I gasp and struggle for breath, his left arm circling my waist and holding me close, the sound of his beating heart thundering in my ears. Then Zay steps back and I watch with a heavy-lidded languorous expression as he strips off his gloves and tosses them in the trash can. His eyes look almost emerald when they take me in, sitting with my butt half in the sink and my legs spread wide. From the bulge in his jeans, I can tell he wants to keep going, but he holds back, reaching out his hand for mine and helping me up.
“Do you think your aunt's floundering under all those kids yet?” he asks me, and I smile, glancing over my shoulder one more time to look in the mirror. My piercing, it looks amazing—and so does the expression on my face. I have this womanly sense of satisfaction curling my lips that I've never seen before.