The Studying Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #1)(73)

Slowly, I tease. Dragging the pearls up. Then down.

Up. Down.

The moan he lets out is guttural. Raw. So filled with hunger that when his hips twitch, his arms frenziedly reach for me, hands as shaky as his legs. “Come here, baby, come here.”

“Yes.” One word and I’m grasping the glossy necklace. I lower myself to the mattress, core pulsing and throbbing.

He’s hot; I’m hotter.

I need it. He needs it.

We both want it.

Beg for it.

“Yes. Please, get a c-condom on.” My post-orgasm voice shudders and tremors as hard as my ovaries. I clutch the pearls tighter in my hand. “I want you so bad.”

“I’ll wrap up after you put the pearls back on for me,” he gruffly demands, eyes blazing when I have them securely around my neck and I’m flat on my back, hair fanned out on his pillow. “You’re so sexy.”

Sebastian begins the slow creep up my body, stiff dick and pre-come dragging along the inside of my leg when he hangs off the side of the bed to grab a condom from his bedside table. My nerve cells strum on high, buzzing. Vibrating. Thighs itching to be filled.

He peels back the foil package, slides the condom carefully out of its wrapper. We watch breathlessly as he guides it down the length of his shaft, arms and muscles straining from the anticipation.

Lust-filled air and sexual tension overtake us.

We watch breathlessly when he kneels between my legs. My thighs.

I spread my legs and lift my ass off the bed, head thrown back when he finally pushes in slowly. Pushes home. Slides that big dick in, deliberate in his continuous rhythm, in each and every thrust.

His moan is gruff. Masculine. Intoxicating.

“Oh. Fuck. Yeah. Yeah sweetheart…you feel so good James…so good, baby,” he chants, planting a sloppy kiss on my lips. I open for him, sucking on his tongue while those lean hips rail into me, wet and messy and wild.

Sweetheart. Baby.

Our eyes meet. Lock.

Watching my partner’s face while he screws me isn’t something I normally do; I’ve always found it too intimate. Unsettling. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t in love with any of my previous partners, so gazing into their eyes while they bang me into the bedposts? Not my thing.

But when Sebastian lifts his intense, broody eyes to mine, I’m a goner. Mesmerized.

His rotating pelvis become unhurried, dark eyes fixated on mine. Slowly but steadily the mood changes; his feverish f*cking suddenly becomes…

Kisses to my temple. Aching, desperate moans in my mouth.

“You’re beautiful…so gorgeous,” he murmurs hoarsely as his massive palms reach under my ass, lifting. Rocking deep, so deep I gasp. And gasp again and again. Stars shine behind my eyes and my vision blurs. I thrash my head, hair spilling on the pillow as this glorious— “Jameson, Jameson. I…I…” Whatever words he’s trying to say get lodged in his throat, emotion overwhelming his expression. His throaty grunts are music to my lady bits and I— “Wanna be on top,” I plead against his neck. “Pull out, Oz…p-pull out…”

I can have another orgasm if I’m on top. Maybe two.

The words spill out of my mouth as my legs go wide—wide as they’ll go, pulling and tugging him by the hips a few more frantic seconds so he’ll grind deeper. Push harder. Deeper and deeper he pumps those athletic hips, working me over, his stamina a thing of beauty.

It’s a miracle he hasn’t come yet.

Sebastian stops and I give a little whimper when he pulls out, moan like I’m dying from the loss of penetration. Eight limbs tremble when he rolls over and lies flat on his back, reaching for me, slick cock standing at attention.

I lay on top of him, relishing the skin-on-skin contact before straddling his waist, dragging my tongue across his for an open-mouthed kiss. It mimics our sex. Our lovemaking.

My knees hit the mattress when I climb on top, Sebastian’s hard cock brushing against my ass cheeks in the most delicious way. Channeling my inner stripper, I swivel my hips, watch his half-hooded eyes slam shut from the pleasure when the slippery tip teases my back door before I lower myself.

I undulate my hips so excruciatingly slowly I want.

To.

Die.

Sebastian’s fingertips grip my thighs, easing up my body. Cup my breasts. He runs his flat palms in slow circles around my hard nipples. And if it were possible for him to be any deeper inside me, Sebastian flexes, tightening his torso. Rises into a sitting position. Wraps his powerful tattooed arms around my waist and buries his nose in the crook of my neck, impaling me farther.

“Jameson,” he croons, stroking my back, thrusting up into me. “Jameson, Jameson.”

Loving me.

It’s heaven.

It’s hell.

It’s bliss.

“God, I love the sounds you make,” he moans. Groans and thrusts. Strokes my damp hair as his dick strokes my g-spot. His deep-throated grunts are in sync with my breathless gasps. “You feel so good…so good…shit…uh…uh…shit…I’m close…James, baby, I’m gonna come.”

“Oh god, yes! Yes! Me too,” I damn near sob. “Hard, push…yes, ohgodohgod, yes, hard… Oh! Right there, right there. Oh!”

It’s loud and beautiful and sweaty.

It’s real.