Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(65)

Now it’s just another one of their five guest rooms, any traces of my existence wiped clean from the space.

Oakley’s expression gives little away as he looks around the room, but from the set of his spine, stiff and rigid, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing. But rather than mentioning it, he crosses the room back to me, a seductive smirk on those sinful lips, and wraps his arms around my waist.

“Are you planning to let me do dirty, despicable things to you in your childhood bedroom?”

My teeth scrape over my bottom lip. “I might just take you up on that offer.”

One hand shifts up to the back of my neck, pulling me in until our lips are a breath apart. “Good, because I think I’m ready to claim my prize from our race.”

He doesn’t give me time to think, his mouth slamming to mine with a ferocity like no other. His tongue prods at the seam of my lips before sliding through to find mine. They twist and mate together while his fingers anchor into my hair, and he uses his grip to tilt my head, gaining better access to pillage my mouth as he sees fit.

He holds me so tight against him, I can barely breathe.

Or maybe he’s stolen all the oxygen in the room.

He breaks our kiss far too soon for my liking, and I try to reel him in for more, but he shakes his head.

“Strip,” he murmurs against my mouth.

I’m almost ashamed by how quickly I rip my body from his and shed my clothes. Within a blink of an eye, I’m down to only my underwear. Oakley’s not far behind, naked from the waist up and already working his belt open.

After shucking my last remaining layer of decency, my hands are on him. Unbuckling the damn belt, I shove his pants and underwear down in a single fell swoop. I go with them, my knees crashing to the floor, about ready to take his thick cock in my mouth when he wraps his palm around it, effectively keeping me from getting a taste.

“What the—”

“Not happening,” he scolds, pulling me back to my feet with his free hand. “It’s my prize, remember? Now get on the bed.”

Fucking hell. Leave it to him to wanna claim that shit at the most inopportune time.

And if this is gonna go anything like the shower did, I doubt I’m gonna survive it.

He practically throws me onto the giant mattress, sending pillows flying from impact before he covers my body with his own.

And then, with absolutely zero dexterity or self-control, we maul each other.

Oakley’s lips trail down my throat, biting and nipping along the way. My hands anchor in his hair, his grab me by the hips, and we grind our bodies together. The ache in my balls is already present, and I know it’ll be too much to bear soon.

I capture his lips again, spearing between them to take needy pulls of his tongue. He meets me with his own carnal lust, dragging moans and pants from deep within my chest as his hips rock against mine.

I’m enamored by him. Touch, taste, scent. All of it.

Every part of me craves every piece of him.

Shifting again, he positions his cock between my cheeks and slowly ruts against my skin and the silken sheets below. A slight flutter of panic races through me when his crown brushes against my hole. But still, the want and desire are there.

Oakley’s not small by any means, and how in the hell he’s gonna fit inside me is...well, it just doesn’t seem possible. Just the first few inches the day in the shower felt like I might be split apart, even when I finally relaxed enough for it to feel good.

But it’s the pleasure I know he can give me that has me saying what I do next.

“Fuck me.”

“Quinn—” he starts, but I shake my head and cut him off with a kiss.

It’s urgent and needy and downright desperate, but I don’t care. I don’t fucking care if we’re crossing all kinds of lines we shouldn’t. It’s like he said, fuck the rules. Fuck every damn one of them.

I just wanna know how it feels to be owned by him, even if it’s just once.

“I want you,” I whisper, like a secret in the night. “I want you so much, I can’t stand it.”

Tormented doesn’t even describe the expression etched into his face as he looks down at me, two brown eyes watching and searching for…I don’t know what.

“Are you sure?”

Rather than answering, I haul him in for another tantalizing kiss. I have no words of reassurance for him because…I should be freaking out right about now.

No, not should.

Am.

I actually kind of am flipping my fucking lid, fear and adrenaline and anxiety all mixing together in a potent, reckless concoction I know I should stay far, far away from. But I take it anyway, the desperate need for him inside me stronger than that for oxygen.

“My bag. Side pocket,” I mutter, shoving him away from me to grab the lube.

He’s gone for barely ten seconds before he’s sliding his body between my thighs again, peppering kisses across my skin. Any piece of it he can find. My hips, my stomach. Pecs, throat, lips, taking his time to explore every line and muscle like it’s the only thing in the world he wants to do.

All sorts of nerves twist and knot my stomach, the mixture of anticipation and a little fear sending my pulse skyrocketing as he pops the bottle of lube open, applying a generous amount to his fingers. Watching him only heightens the torrid emotions rippling through me, goosebumps breaking out over my skin.