Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(53)

“Motherfucking ferret,” he groans as I scoop the creature into my arms.

“Hello, little guy. I didn’t know you had a pet! What’s his name?”

“Lucifer,” he mutters. “Don’t fraternize with the enemy.”

“You don’t like animals? What’s wrong with you?”

“Cats and dogs are cool. But the rat has a twisted fascination with me.”

I let the ferret go as he opens his door. It tries to follow me in, but Eric nudges it out with his leg, slamming the door in its face. “Beat it. I want her to myself.”

I like that.

I gaze around the room, taking in the navy sheets and comforter, the trophies on his dresser, the open door of his closet where clothes spill out. He’s a slob.

He stands by the window, his chest rising as his eyes smolder.

An ache starts in my body. One that demands.

“Do you want me to hold you again?”

My breath hitches. “More than that.”

Without saying a word, he walks over to his bed, beckoning me towards him. A jolt of electricity hits, searing me. My legs feel like jelly as I move closer to him.

Feigning confidence, I kick my Converse off, plop down on his bed, and stretch out.

He stretches out alongside me, and I laugh nervously.

He reaches out and traces a finger down my profile. “You’re in my room, Julia. Is that . . .”

“Yes,” I say as I roll into him.

“Fuck,” he says in a wondering tone, then leans in to kiss me. It’s not gentle like last night, but hungry and greedy.

I wrap my leg around him and run my hands down the corded muscles of his broad back, up under his shirt, feeling his sculpted chest. My pulse hammers.

With one hand threaded through my hair, he pulls his mouth away, eyes boring into mine. “Tell me you want this, too.”

“Please.”

“I want to see you,” he says as he tugs at my shirt, slowly easing it up until he can pull it off my shoulders. His fingers trace the line of my collarbone before he moves to my bra.

His fingers brush across my skin as desire rushes in like a wave. It’s been a while since I let myself be open enough to allow this to happen.

He undoes the clasp of my bra and eases it off. He pauses to take me in, and his gaze is like a physical touch—then his tongue dips to each breast, licking each pebbled peak.

I gasp as I arch up.

“So sweet, Julia . . .”

Our gazes cling as he unzips my jeans and shimmies them down my legs. He pushes them over my feet and tosses them over his shoulder with a grin.

I laugh, then stop when he kisses me, his lips insistent against mine. His tongue flicks against mine, tasting me. His fingers graze my neck, down the center of my chest, then between my legs.

“Eric . . .” I moan. “More of that.”

“Trying to go slow.” He maneuvers around and lifts my legs, then lowers them down on either of his shoulders until his head is at my apex.

I shudder with desire. There’s something wholly erotic about a man who has you naked while he isn’t.

“You’re so pretty. And your pussy is soaked.” His fingers rub my juices and my core flutters in greed.

He puts his mouth on me.

I cry out, then bring my hand up to silence myself, but he reaches up and grabs it. “Let it out. Please. I want to hear you scream while I fuck you with my tongue.”

I whimper.

He takes his time and moves his hands to my thighs, spreading me apart. His hot, wet tongue slides slowly up the creases of my most secret parts. My head falls back and I moan as he licks from bottom to top with the flat of his tongue. He darts inside my channel, his teeth nibbling on my clit, then sucking.

He teases my nub, his breath hot against my skin.

“Eric . . .”

He wraps his arms around my thighs and kneads my ass. A fire alights inside me as sensation builds at my spine, burning and tingling.

I’m getting close, so close, almost there, then he pulls back, slowing his movements.

I cry out my displeasure.

“What do you want me to do?”

I open my eyes and there’s a smirk on his face.

“Come on, don’t stop . . .” I writhe in frustration.

“What do you want?” he repeats. “Say it.”

I lick my lips. “You. Make me come. Eat my pussy.”

“Perfect.” He dips to my clit again, his tongue relentless, flicking, swirling, playing. I teeter on the edge and arch against him. My legs clamp around him as I reach for the precipice, and if he stops now, I might kill him. He pulls on my clit gently with his teeth, and I grab the edge of his comforter.

He fingers me lazily with one, then two digits, as I thrash my head from side to side. His arms tighten around my legs, pulling me against his mouth. “Eric. Oh, fuck . . .”

The orgasm rips through me like a cannon, and I come for what feels like minutes, my core clenching as it tugs around his fingers.

He presses a kiss to the top of my mound.

“You taste so sweet, Julia,” he murmurs.

I sputter, trying to compose myself. Our first time was definitely not like this. Yes, it was good after the pain wore off, but this was a more experienced man.

I can’t stop trembling.

“I think I just found my new favorite pastime,” I say and he laughs.