Park Avenue Prince(19)

“Hey,” I said.

She twisted her arms, trying to get free.

“Let me look at how beautiful you are.”

She pulled the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth. I wanted to suck on it instead of her. I took over her lips, her tongue, her kiss.

Her pulse under my palms matched the throb in my dick. Another twist of her hips and a small, almost imperceptible moan from the back of her throat woke me from the kiss, pushing me forward.

“Leave your arms up,” I whispered against her mouth. She moaned again, and my dick strained against my zipper, reminding me to hurry the f*ck up. Despite the alarm bells ringing across my body, I wanted to slow everything down, knew I had to savor every moment. Nothing came after the f*cking, so I had to draw out the something for as long as possible.

“Okay,” she whispered, her breath puffing against my skin, pulling me deeper into the moment. I slid my hands down her arms, my heartbeat increasing in pace with every touch.

One hand on her waist, I hooked a finger over the opening of her blouse, and glanced at her. Her mouth parted, her eyes imploring me. With a little pull, the button popped open, revealing the swell of her breasts. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Perfect. I tipped my head back, trying to bring my cock under control, reminding my body I had all night to get my fill of her.

The thought only made my impatient dick throb.

I pulled her shirt apart, the buttons scattering across the floor as I yanked the lace of her bra down to free her breasts. I wanted her nipples in my mouth, between my teeth, hard against me. I plunged my tongue between her milky white tits, then groaned and sank to my knees in front of her.

I was at the perfect height to take in the glory of her—disheveled, wanton—which I knew would be unusual for her.

Her hips bucked away from the wall. I wasn’t the only one whose body was racing for the finish line.

I lifted her tits in my hands until they spilled out of my palms. Like something in one of her drawings, they were sumptuous, made to be feasted on. I glanced up to check her hands were still above her head. My dick throbbed when I saw she hadn’t moved them. She knew how to do as she was told in the bedroom. Fuck. She deserved a reward.

I took a nipple in my mouth and sucked, bit and flicked, her whimpers urging me on. Her movements became more jagged. I could stay like this for days, torturing my rock-hard cock . . . but I didn’t want to torture her. I wanted to make my mark. Licking up to the top of her breast, then biting and sucking, sinking my teeth into the generous flesh.

“Jesus,” she screamed.

He wasn’t going to save her. Not now. Not from me.

I released her and, impatient now, alternated between tugging at her zipper and pulling my shirt off. I wanted her skin against mine, her wetness on my fingers, spread across her thighs.

“Bring your arms down, Princess. I want you to lie back.” I guided her to the rug, peeling off her shirt and bra as she rested her hands on my shoulders, steadying herself as she sank to the ground.

Fuck, I wished I had a bed for her. A nice couch or a dining room table. All the places I could be f*cking her. I groaned, and as if my imagination increased her pleasure, she arched her back against the floor. “You’re impatient,” I said.

She nodded. “Be careful though,” she said, her eyes pleading with me. Be careful? She wasn’t talking about the floor or the cut of my teeth. It was her psyche, her soul, her heart she was pleading for.

I wanted to reassure her, to tell her I would be gentle, that I’d never hurt her, but I couldn’t make that promise. Didn’t even know how. My blood cooled. Growing up as I did had forced me to detach from others. To not care about holes in my soul that would never be filled. I’d taught myself to tune into people—to read them, but not to comfort or protect.

Despite her pull, I forced myself away from Grace and rolled to my back. “We don’t have to do this. If it’s too much . . .”

She crossed her arms over her face.

“You don’t want me?” she asked.

Maybe too much. I couldn’t ever remember wanting a woman as badly as I did Grace.

“I want you.” I pushed the heel of my hand against my granite cock. “But I don’t want you to be . . . uncomfortable.”

This had to be physical, and only physical, for both of us. But she tugged at something deeper in me.

I glanced at her taut belly and I couldn’t resist dipping my fingers below her waistband. I wanted more. Her zipper undone, I peeled off her skirt. “Take your arms from your face. You’re too beautiful to hide.”

Consequences would have to be dealt with later. Now I had to f*ck her.

I stripped naked, not taking my eyes off her, afraid she might disappear if I looked away for even a second. Hooking my thumbs under her panties by each hip bone, I dragged the delicate lace down her body, exposing her * to me. Mesmerizing. A small, neat blonde triangle of hair, just as I’d expected. Grace wasn’t a girl who would go entirely bare without a little encouragement. I leaned over her, knocking her legs apart so I could settle between her thighs.

“What are you doing?” she asked, twisting away from me. She wasn’t enjoying this?

I grabbed her and held her in place.

“No, Sam. Please, no.” She fumbled at my shoulders, trying to pull me up her body.

“I want to taste you,” I said. “But I’ll stop if you tell me why you don’t like oral sex.”