Bad Intentions (Bad Love #2)(55)



“You like that?” he asks, his voice taunting, but I’m too wrapped up in lust to be embarrassed. I nod enthusiastically, unable to focus on words. Suddenly, he slides out from underneath me, and I could cry at the loss. He drags a hand down his mouth, wiping my wetness from his stubble.

“Turn around.” His tone has shifted, along with the look in his eyes. The sweet words and gentle touches were Stefan, but this is Dare, and my stomach swirls with excitement.

I sit back down on the stool, facing the opposite way. Dare walks around the counter and reaches into a high cabinet, his icy eyes heavy-lidded, before coming to stand behind me again. I hear him fiddling with something, unscrewing a cap, maybe, before he sets the white glass jar labeled coconut oil onto the counter next to me, the lid falling to the floor with a loud clang.

Dare’s hands on my hips slide me backwards so my ass is hanging off the stool. I don’t have time to question it before his hands are there, between my legs, coating everything. I hear him undressing behind me as I hold my breath, waiting for his next move. I’m shaking for him, for whatever he’s about to give me.

I don’t have to wait long, because two seconds later, I feel his tip notching against my entrance, hot and hard. He slides into my pussy effortlessly, thanks to my arousal and the coconut oil. Knees locked together, I push back against him, but after a few thrusts, he pulls out with a curse.

“I don’t want to come in your pussy this time,” he explains, dragging the head of his cock through my lips and back toward my other hole. He nudges against my ass, rubbing and circling but never fully penetrating. I should be nervous at what I know is about to happen. I’ve never done this. But Dare has a way of making everything feel good, even when it’s outside my comfort zone.

Dare leans over, covering my back with his front. He bites my shoulder hard enough that I know I’ll have a mark tomorrow before asking, “Has anyone fucked your ass before?” His voice is strained in my ear.

“No,” I breathe.

“Tell me I can take it. Tell me I can be the first.”

“Take it,” I all but beg, pushing onto him again.

Dare’s weight is gone as he stands behind me once more, haphazardly digging four fingers into the jar before lubing me up some more. I look behind me to see him using the excess to coat his cock before he’s pushing against the tight ring. I lock up, not expecting the sharp sting, but Dare soothes me, rubbing my back and thighs, coaxing me to loosen up.

“Relax, baby,” he says before nibbling on my shoulder, softer this time. He snakes a hand in between my legs, playing with my clit as he starts to move again. I melt into his touch, his pretty words. Slowly, so slowly, he nudges inside. I feel the moment he pushes past the tight muscle, and I slump forward on the counter in relief.

“I feel so full.”

Dare groans at my admission, pumping his hips a little faster after giving me a minute to adjust. I half-moan, half-whine at the feeling. “Play with your pussy,” he instructs as his hands move back to spread my ass. I look over my shoulder once more, watching him as he watches himself move inside me. His lean abs flex with each thrust and I do as he says, rubbing my clit. The heady mixture of pain and pleasure is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

Soon, he’s fucking me just as hard as he would my pussy, and my whole body is vibrating, shaking with the sensations running through me. I feel drugged, completely out of my mind. My body is on sensory overload. Over-stimulated to the point that tears stream down my cheeks.

Dare pulls my back to his front, arms wrapping around me as he ruts into me, his hips slapping against my ass that’s still half-covered by my ripped leggings. One arm dips down to cup me between the legs while his other arm wraps around my neck.

“Fuck my hand while I fuck your ass,” Dare rasps into my ear. “Come for me, Lo.”

His words send me over the edge as I grind against his hand while he fucks up into me without remorse.

“I’m coming,” I cry, holding his hand in place while I ride it. He curls two fingers inside me, hitting a spot that makes my eyes roll back as I spasm around him.

“Fuck,” Dare grinds out. “Your ass is squeezing me so hard.”

I slump forward with my cheek pressed onto the cold granite countertop, my palms flat against the smooth surface. Dare’s hands come over the tops of mine, folding his fingers between my own as he gives two more powerful strokes. I feel the moment he spills inside me, and then he’s sinking against me, kissing the notches in my spine before he slowly pulls out of my spent body.




We’re depleted and sweaty, lying on top of Dare’s couch as he traces his fingertips up and down my side. He’s on his side behind me, head propped on his hand, my ripped leggings and the rest of our clothes strewn all over the floor.

“I love tickles,” I say sleepily, as goosebumps pepper my skin.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks. I’m raw and sore, but I’m still in a state of euphoria, I think.

“A little,” I say, downplaying it. “But I liked it.”

That same dark look flashes in his eyes again. “I didn’t mean to lose control.”

I roll toward him, my eyebrows cinched together in confusion. Our noses are almost touching with how close we are. “What are you talking about? You didn’t. I literally asked for it.”

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