Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(7)

“Oh?” She tilted her head. “What mood are you going for?”

I worked my way in between her knees, then pushed up, forcing her back on the bed. “Bad. My mood is getting very bad.”

She collapsed back onto the center of the bed, her dark hair fanning around her head. “How bad?” On a deep inhale, she tugged her lower lip into her mouth with her teeth.

I growled and dipped down, sucking her lip into my mouth. Then I slanted my head, kissing her hard. By the time I pulled away, she’d gone breathless. Her lips were red. Her eyes sparked with lust. “Hannah. I’m going to strip you naked and flip you into every position I’ve imagined while you innocently studied on my bed.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Which positions?”

I shook my head. “No. No itinerary.” Taking a deep breath, I pulled back and stood. I grabbed the front of my T-shirt and yanked it over my head. In the next few seconds, I popped open the buttons of my fly and shoved off my jeans.

Hannah swept her gaze from my face, down my chest, to the erection jutting out toward her. “Beautiful,” she whispered.

Primal. Blood thundered in my ears as I lunged forward.

Her jaw dropped open as I stripped off her shorts and thong together. I crouched over her, reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra with the flick of a finger and thumb. Then I clutched her top and bra and ripped them over her head before tossing them across the room.

Eyes wide, she swallowed hard and scooted, rotating into a missionary position, head toward the pillows. I gripped her hips, flipped her over, and tugged her down.

She gasped, face on the comforter, arms spread wide. But her hands clutched the fabric. And when I spread my palm across her ass cheek with a light touch, she let out a soft moan.

Oh yeah. The anticipation amped her up. “You like this, Maestro?”

A quick nod of her head.

“What about this?” I smacked her ass.

She sucked in a sharp breath, but that was it—no answer.

It wasn’t a no. So I slapped her skin again, this time the other cheek, harder.

The response I got was a groan as she exhaled.

I smiled, rubbing skin that pinked right before my eyes. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Cade. I trust you.”

Stretching my body over hers, I pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder blade. “Good. Then trust me to make you feel good.”

For the first time in my bedroom, I didn’t need to reach for the condoms in my nightstand. We’d already established she was on birth control, and we’d both been safe (or in her case, infrequent) with our sexual encounters.

I moved to the side and dragged my fingertips down her back before gently palming over her ass cheeks, one, then the other. The entire time, I gauged her reactions—when she took a deep breath, how long she exhaled. My fingers trailed lower, between her thighs, up into her cleft that had already become wet. Her responses grew hotter: gasps every time I surprised her with a touch to her clit, a fingertip pressing inside, lightly lifting; low moans on each exhale as I pressed and rubbed, finding out what she liked, how she needed it.

I took my time. Pulled her to the brink. Balanced her there before shifting my touch. And as my teasing dragged on, her soft cries and moans grew louder.

I stopped, resting my fingertip on her clit, another finger pausing its strokes inside of her. “Careful, Maestro. I’ll give you what you need, but unless you want the guys to have a ringside seat, you’ll need to keep it down.”

She nodded and pulled the corner of a pillow toward her face. Then she squirmed her hips.

“Ah, ah, ah. No grinding. I take you there.” Once she stilled, I began circling and stroking, slow, steady. With every muffled cry and moan, I brought her to the brink again, then kept her there. Teasing. Taunting.

She dragged out a low moan into the pillow, then turned her head to the side and whispered, “Please, Cade. Please.”

Her begging undid me. I slid my finger deeper and stroked her harder, faster.

Her breath caught. Her muscles tensed. She pressed her head down into the pillow.

The second I felt her first hard pulse, I moved between her legs, spreading her thighs wider with my knees. I pressed my tip to her entrance, slid further, over her clit, then pulled back and slowly plunged deep.

She screamed into the pillow as her orgasm continued around me.

Fully seated, pulsing heat wrapped around me, I sucked in a shaky breath. Then I pulled back and thrust forward, hard and slow, taking my time, extending her pleasure. Soon the ache grew too intense for me to hold back any longer. I leaned back and lifted up onto my knees, grabbing her hips as I pulled her ass up against me. She buried her face into the comforter, muffling her loud moans. Her arms extended straight forward and clutched the corners of the pillows.

Gripping her hips, I pushed them forward and pulled them back, crashing her body into mine with every hard thrust. Then on a sharp inhale, I drove deep and paused, balls pressed against her. I dropped my mouth to her back, muffling the harsh growl that tore through my throat as I came hard inside her.

In slow motion, I collapsed onto her, bracing my weight with my arms and legs, trying to catch my breath. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder again, then gathered her in my arms as I rolled us to the side, still connected. I shifted slightly inside her, and she moaned low.

Our breaths were the only sounds left, slowing, deepening. My mind spun with the incredible experience it was to be with Hannah.