Frayed (Connections, #4)(90)

Obviously fighting off laughter, he presses himself into me and kisses me even harder, deeper. “You taste delicious. You always do,” he says.

I melt back against the wall and band my arms around his waist. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles.

“Okay, then.”

“Besides I don’t want to wait another minute to see you naked,” he growls, and then promptly lifts me off the floor.

I flick my shoes off one at a time and hear each clatter against the floor. Then I wrap my legs around his waist and ask a question I already know the answer to. “Where are we going?”

He slides his hands up and down my sides. “To your room.”

“I liked the wall,” I purr.

“If I f*cked you against the wall, I’m afraid you’d bang your head against it. Let’s keep to soft surfaces like the mattress. I told you we were going to take this slow, and besides, we’ve already done the wall.”

I place openmouthed kisses down his neck, tasting him with each lick and suck. “What if I don’t want slow?”

“Good thing I’m the one in control, then,” he says, and my heart races at his tone.

“Maybe that’s where I want to be,” I tease and run my nails down his back—hard.

“Fuck,” he groans, lowering me to the floor in my bedroom. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

“Did I tell you I’ve dreamed about you almost every night since the library?” My fingers trail to the buttons on his shirt and I undo them one by one.

“Tell me what you dreamed,” he says in a seductive voice.

“I dreamed about you delivering pizza to my apartment but I had no money to pay you, about you pulling me over and me trying to get out of a speeding ticket, about you being my doctor and me needing a very thorough exam.” Okay, so really I dreamed about him and me lying together, naked, happy, just us, but I want my dreams to sound a little sexier than they actually were. And I don’t want to scare him off.

His tongue caresses my earlobe. “Did all of your dreams end in me f*cking you?”

“Um . . . hmm,” I answer, shivering when his tongue slides inside my ear.

His breathing accelerates at a rapid speed. “Good, because your dreams are about to come true.”

I fumble with the last few buttons of his shirt, my entire body trembling in anticipation. He looks down at my hands and then rips the rest of his bloodstained shirt off, the remaining buttons flying to the floor. He looks at my pale pink silky top also spotted with blood and with his fingers gripping the V of it, he tears it right down the middle and pushes it off my shoulders to reveal my matching pink bra.

His eyes grow dark with desire and his hair has fallen and lies tousled over his forehead. He has to be the sexiest guy I have ever seen—ever.

The lights are on in the room and although the blinds are pulled down, they aren’t fully shut. I want to say something, but when his hands move around to undo my bra and he places both his palms over my breasts, the tingle in my skin is all I care about. He feels me for a bit, thumbing my nipples to draw them into stiff peaks. When his hands drop I immediately feel their loss and want that warmth back. He takes a moment to admire me.

“So f*cking sexy,” he murmurs.

His voice makes me shiver again. His head dips and he circles his tongue around my nipple, first one side, then the other. He tugs a little on one and traces circles around the other with his thumb. I press into his mouth, loving the way it feels on my skin.

“Touch me,” I plead, wanting his hands to move a little lower. Needing to feel them there.

“I’m in control here,” he says, letting his mouth drop a little as if teasing me.

I gasp when his lips hit the waistband of my skirt, his fingers gliding up the silk of my hose. In response I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging harder the farther up my thigh his fingers creep. My body hums at his sensual touch and my heartbeat accelerates. He undoes my skirt and as it floats to the floor, one of his hands spans my rear and the other the area between my hipbones. I moan so loudly I almost want to beg him to speed it up, but luckily I don’t have to.

He quickly straightens and grabs my chin with my fingers to bring my eyes to his. “I’ve dreamed about being inside you every night too. My cock has swollen so big thinking about it I’ve come in my dreams,” he confesses.

My hands fly to his jeans and I unbutton them as fast as I can. My need to feel him is out of control. I slide inside his pants, wrap my fist around him, pumping him up and down.

“Does that feel good?” I purr, getting on my toes to nip at his lip.

“Really, really good. So good,” he hisses.

“In your dreams were you this big?”

“Bigger.”

I squeeze him harder, reaching down to grab even lower.

“Oh, f*ck,” he groans, and takes a step back, disengaging from me. Then he reaches his hand inside my hose. “Fuck, you’re not wearing underwear again.”

“I never wear them with hose,” I say.

“Sexy as f*ck,” he mutters again. He cups my sex, sliding a finger inside me so fast the pleasure seems more like pain. “S’belle . . . your skin is so soft and you’re so wet. I think you like torturing my cock.”