Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(95)

Unexpectedly, he leans forward and takes one into his mouth, sucking until I’m arching my back to press further into him. I bite my lip knowing I need to be quiet, but it’s hard. So hard when he uses his tongue and teeth over one nipple, then the other as his hand slides between us and starts rubbing me over the seam of my jeans.

My breath shutters as he pays extra special attention to my clit, rubbing me in circles before slowly starting to undo the button and zipper of my denim. I help him as he nips the top of my breast and tugs the cup of my bra down with his teeth until I’m exposed. And when he takes me into his mouth with nothing covering me the same time he slides his hand into my panties, I’m almost at my breaking point.

He sucks my nipple, his tongue and teeth doing delicious things to my sensitive breast as one of his fingers trails down my seam until it teases my wet opening.

I’m embarrassed at how ready I am for him and can tell how much it turns him on when he slips a finger inside of me and does that wonderful hooking motion to hit the spot. Using his free hand, he undoes my bra and throws it somewhere across the room, so I’m completely bare from the waist up.

His mouth moves to one breast while his free hand tweaks and plays with the other, and a second finger joins the first one inside of me as the heel of his palm presses against my clit. I should be mortified from the wet noises coming from each thrust of his fingers inside of me, but I’m not. I should also probably be embarrassed of the way I start riding him and quietly begging him to bite me harder. Who knew I even liked that sort of thing?

It’s when he obeys, biting down on my breast and fingering me faster that I detonate around him. I have to clench my teeth as the orgasm washes over me, his fingers still moving as I contract around them.

When it subsides, I collapse into him, squeezing an arm around his neck until we’re both desperately peeling off other layers of clothes in between brutal, hot kisses.

His shirt.

My jeans.

His pants.

My panties.

His boxer briefs.

When we’re both completely bare, we take a long stretch of time to study each and every little piece of exposed skin between us. My heart is pounding as I look at his twitching organ, long, pink, and girthy, and picture exactly where it’s about to be.

“We can stop,” he tells me, misinterpreting what I’m thinking.

I reach between us and wrap a hand around the base of him, pumping once like he’s taught me to do and watching him grow in my palm. He kisses me as I repeat the movement, stroking him from base to tip and back down again. He’s leaking, desperate when he reaches for something he must have grabbed earlier.

A condom.

I watch as he moves my hand away and rolls it on, fascinated by the skilled movement. My breath catches as he rolls me onto my back and hovers above me, his knee gently knocking my legs open until he’s settled between them.

My hand cups his face, meeting him halfway for another kiss before pulling away and whispering, “I don’t want to stop.”

His eyelids flutter closed as he kisses me, lining himself up to my entrance and pushing in slowly. The pinch of pain is there, making me hiss out a breath that has him pausing. But I shake my head and return his kiss, bending my legs and settling them on either side of his hips to urge him to continue.

Inch by inch he sinks into me, kissing my lips, my cheeks, my jaw, before nipping the crook of my throat. One small thrust later, he’s fully seated inside of me, and I feel it. Him. All of him. I feel his body on me and his hands on me and his breath over me.

His fingers wrap around the meaty part of my thigh and hitch my leg around his back before pulling out and pushing back in. It’s slow, calculated, and both painful but not at the same time. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt as he kneads my thigh and whispers pretty words against my lips and sets a slow rhythm with every single thrust of his hips.

My lips part when his hand slides between our sweaty bodies and starts playing with the nerves that are still recovering from my first orgasm. I make a strangled noise that he swallows with his lips, his tongue twisting with mine and tasting every single part of my mouth as he picks up the pace.

His hips slap into mine, my other leg moving to join the left one around his back, crossing at the ankles as he slams into me. His grunts become heavier, faster, his kisses stinging but sexy as he tries quieting his noises.

The fingers working my clit press down, tweak, and pinch, building that familiar feeling that travels down my spine and tightens my tummy as his movements become jerky.

“Need to feel you cum on my cock, baby,” he pleads, breathing into my neck and listening to the sounds our bodies are creating. “I need to know what it feels like when your tight pussy vice grips me as you come apart.”

His words are all it takes before my back is arching off the bed and a second orgasm completely takes over my body. I clench him so tight I can’t see straight. I feel his hands gripping my ass, holding it up as he pounds into me before burying himself deep and releasing a garbled cry into the pillow beside my head as he empties himself into the condom.

I take in the way he twitches inside me.

The bite of pain from what we’d done.

His lips coast over my jaw until they find my lips, the kiss sweet and lingering as he slowly pulls out, anchoring the condom carefully to make sure it doesn’t leak before he disposes of it.

My hands shake as images and sounds and emotions I didn’t remember until just now smack into me like a freight train.