Getting Played (Getting Some, #2)(51)

Our kiss is all rough desperation—pure need—a pulling, tugging, pleading devouring of each other’s mouths. And it’s the best fucking kiss I will ever have in my life. I know that, right here right now.

I lick down to her neck and suck on her pulse point—hard enough to leave a bruise. She angles her head to give me better access, even as she gasps out a question.

“Dean, should we be doing this? It could confuse things.”

I groan against her neck. “I’m already so fucking confused I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

Lainey pulls back just slightly, laughing. And I stare at her swollen pink lips, stroking the velvet softness of the bottom one.

“No, that’s not true. I’m not confused at all about this. About how much I want you, Lainey. It’s constant and relentless.” I press my forehead to hers, panting like I just sprinted sixty yards. “Say yes. I need to hear you say yes. Christ, Lainey, please say yes.”

I’m begging and I don’t even care. I need to feel her, fuck her, throw her legs over my shoulders and eat her. I want to drown in her, lose myself in her, make her come so many times we lose count and she loses her mind.

And I want to do it all now.

Her fingers trace my jaw and she looks into my eyes.

And she nods.

“Yes.”

I’m not a praying kind of guy, but—hallelujah.

I dive back for her mouth, kissing her greedily until she’s breathless, until words aren’t possible, and it’s all needy, high-pitched little whimpers purring from her throat.

The feel of her hands on me—scraping my chest, my back, skimming down my stomach, yanking on the clasp of my pants like they offend her . . .

“So good,” I groan. “It’s so good.”

I tear at her tank top—pulling it over her head and make quick work of her bra.

I’m the motherfucking Houdini of bra clasps.

When it’s gone, when she’s bare from the waist up, I force myself to take a moment to just look at her. Take her all in. Appreciate the trembling, stunning view of her. And there’s so much to appreciate.

The pale globes of her breasts are larger than they were this past summer, the dusty pink, quarter-size nipples a shade darker. I cup her in my hand, almost reverently, and I groan from the bottom of my throat. She watches with heavy-lidded eyes as I bend my knees to take her in my mouth—slowly clasping my lips around her nipple and sucking until she whimpers. I flick the pointy, tasty little nub with my tongue and scrape her soft flesh with my teeth.

And it’s beautiful. So fucking hot it’s almost too much to take.

“Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean…” Lainey chants, pulling at my shoulders.

“That’s me, baby. I’m right here.” I knead her breasts in my palm, blowing on the pointed peak. “I’ve got you.”

“Please,” she keens. Her hips lift off the counter, rubbing against my thigh that’s wedged between her legs—reaching for sweet friction where she needs it most. “Please, Dean, I need . . . so much.”

Hell, yes.

She incoherent, but I know—I understand—because I need too.

I grip the waist of her shorts and yank at the same time Lainey lifts up, leaving her totally bare. So much beautiful skin to touch and lick, and I’m going to worship every inch of her.

I straighten up and step back, opening my pants and stepping out of them—leaving them in a puddle on the floor. Lainey consumes me with her eyes, then she wraps her pretty hand around my cock, pumping the shaft with firm, confident strokes.

“I’ve missed you,” she sighs.

I pull back enough to chuckle.

“Are you talking to me or my dick?”

Her hazel eyes are darker with heat—a gorgeous golden green. She looks up at me innocently and I want to tear her apart.

“Both of you.”

Yep, works for me.

She sighs into my mouth when I press my lips against hers, stroking the hot cavern of her mouth with my tongue. And there’s a blissful relief in having her in my arms again—after all this time—feeling her against me. Good and right and mine. It’s a perfect space of bliss and pleasure carved out for just the two of us that I never ever want to leave.

She slides closer to the edge of the counter and spreads her legs wider as my hips nudge back in between them. It’s the hottest thing—her openness, confidence, shamelessness and trust.

I give my cock a long stroke, then tease her slick seam, up and down, with the weeping, broad head. She’s so wet, she coats me, and her heat makes me lose my fucking mind. I slide the tip inside her, biting my lip hard to keep from just ramming all the way home.

Lainey’s rolls back as I push slowly all the way in—her sweet pussy gripping me snug and beautiful.

“Oh, yeah,” I moan into her hair.

I grip her upper thighs, holding tight, pulling my hips back—just to push back in.

“Yes, oh, yes,” she keens.

I hold her waist, pumping deep inside her. My hips withdraw, circle and plunge over and over, until she’s quivering against me—clawing at my back and chanting my name.

I thrust faster, harder, as the pleasure rises and builds, our breaths mingling, our hearts pounding in the same rhythm, cresting to a frenzied peak.

Christ, I feel it when she comes. When she shatters in my arms, and her wet heat grips and spasms around my cock. And I follow her there, thrusting one last time—jerking inside her, filling her, groaning her name—as the heated carnal joy spikes through me, like my orgasm is torn from my goddamn soul.