Friction(52)

“We should,” I rasp against his mouth. “We should…”

"You should let me fuck you, love," he whispers, his voice rough and demanding. "Everything else can wait, but this..." He shoves my hand to his cock through his jeans, squeezing my fingers around his shaft. A harsh sound pushes past my lips because he’s big. Big and thick, and growing even more beneath my fingertips. “I’m not waiting for this anymore. You’ve made it impossible to.”

“What do you want me to do?” I hear myself whisper in a breathy voice that sounds detached from my body. I keep my gaze zeroed in on his, pumping my fingers over the coarse fabric of his jeans in my need to feel him. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

"I want you to come, Lucy. I want to hear you scream my name. Want to feel your nails down my back. Want to feel your cunt and mouth throbbing around my dick." He wedges his fingers between my thighs, cupping my sex until I shudder around him. Nobody’s ever spoken to me like this or touched me so boldly, and it shoots fire down my spine. He lowers his forehead to mine and growls, “But first I want to taste your pussy.”

My core tightens, and when he moves his hand from my thighs, I can feel my panties clinging to my sex. “Now?” I rasp. He lifts his broad shoulder as he drags his tee shirt over his head, and before I can stop myself, I splay my fingers over the roses and tribal art tattoo spanning his chest. “Why shrug?”

“Why rush?” He twists me around to face one of the metal bedposts, releasing a wicked chuckle in my ear when I wrap my fingers around it and hold on tight. "I've wanted to see you do this since you walked into my office and I realized who you were,” he murmurs into my ear, his warm breath fanning the nape of my neck, my shoulder blades, my hair. “And I wanted you well before that, too.”

"So did I," I admit on a soft, whimpering sigh. His lips connect with the tender flesh under my left ear lobe. My head falls back as his tongue leaves a hot path along my skin.

"You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to spread you on my desk or your desk or in the break room and lick you until you came.” Reaching around, he cups my face, turning my head to the side, so I’m looking over my shoulder and into his stormy eyes. “Tonight, I’ll get to do that.”

“We’re not at my desk or the break room, Jace,” I point out softly, and he responds by squeezing my center, grinding his fingertips over the fabric and panties separating him from my sex. The friction leaves me gasping for air.

“Not now we’re not, but you never know where I’ll fuck you later.”

His softly-spoken words curl my toes, blur my senses, soak beneath my skin, but I don’t have time to catch my breath. Grasping my hip with one hand, he tilts my face to the side until he has full access to my mouth. He crashes his lips down on mine in a kiss meant to shatter me to pieces. It does. Oh god, it does, and my body is in flames as he drowns out my moans with his tongue and teeth.

I love this. I love the sensation of his cock pressed against my ass and the way his tattooed fingers grip my breasts just before they trail a path down my sleeves to intertwine with mine on the metal post. The pads of this thumb graze the sensitive skin on the insides of my wrists, but he holds me still when my knees threaten to buckle from the pleasure exploding in my veins.

"Do you like how that feels?" His erection pushes harder against my backside so that the front of my body presses against the cool metal for support.

I bob my head. “Yes.”

"Are you ready for me to taste you, love?" His voice is a dangerous growl as he moves my hands up and over my head where he holds my wrists captive in one of his while the other works against the front of my blouse. After a few moments, he gets restless. A groan rips from the back of his throat as my buttons scatter across the floor, falling around our feet, but I don’t care.

Not when rough fingertips slide beneath the starched fabric of my shirt. They spread over my soft skin, gripping one breast possessively and then the other. Jace nudges my earlobe playfully with the tip of his nose. “Do you want my tongue on your pussy?”

"Yes!" I buck against him, releasing a strangled noise the moment he pinches a taut nipple and tightens his hold on my wrists above our heads. I tilt my face to his again, murmuring, “Please, Jace.”

“Say that again.” He moves his hand from my breast for a split second, just to flick his tongue over the tips of his thumb. He squeezes my nipple again, rolling it between his wet fingers suntil the walls of my sex tighten.

I scream. For the first time in my life, I scream in pleasure. "Oh god, touch me. Please!”

Whispering something incoherent into my hair, he skims his hand from my breast and across my flat stomach. I bow against him, pushing against the fingers that dip beneath the hem of my skirt. He shoves my panties aside like they’re the biggest burden he’s ever encountered.

As he circles his knuckles over my sex, he sucks in a breath. "You're so wet, and it's all for me, isn't it?"

“Yes…” My nails dig into my flesh as I ball my trapped hands into tight fists to ease the torture he’s inflicting on my body. My ass moves against him in a slow circular motion that I pray drives him crazy.

If he’s going to make me feel this way, it’s only fair I reciprocate.

“And you’re getting wetter.” I look over my shoulder once more to see a devilish grin flash across his bronze features. Thumbing my clit, he sweeps his other fingers over my slick folds in long backward and forward motions that leave me clenching my teeth and gasping for air. “Christ, your pussy is perfect.”