Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(45)

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” The words are firm and content. I don’t have to wonder if he means them, because as I continue to stare, half expecting to find his eyes drowning in regret, there’s only a fierce sense of contentment shining back at me.

Cautious eyes trace my face. It’s like he’s scared that his confession will make me run from him and he’s looking for something to prove him wrong. But I don’t. I don’t think that I could regardless of how hard I tried.

The tension leaks from my muscles and I feel myself relax. Then comes a moment in time where his expression is completely open, his walls temporarily pulled back. There’s a trust there that has my neck warming and my lips spreading in a silent gasp.

With a deep groan he’s hovering above me, knees on the other side of me and hands gripping the headboard. I arch up into him and take his mouth, distracting myself from the feeling of heaviness that’s fallen over us.

My bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as he nips on it before soothing the sting with a stroke of his tongue. The heat flaring in his brown eyes makes my thighs clench and tighten around his hips, the want to have him touch me starting to become a torturous need.

Again, he does what I want without me having to ask. It’s a sort of recognition that has a lump forming at the base of my throat. He’s begun to know my body just like I have his. The intimate feeling of it has me reeling, falling back into my head.

I swallow back a whimper of need when he slips his hand underneath my skirt and begins undressing me slowly, taking his time to trail his fingertips over every inch of my body. An involuntary shudder works its way up my spine. “Stay with me, my little fighter. We’re not done yet.”

The raw need burning in his eyes sets my insides on fire. An incessant throb builds at my center and I lift my hips, desperately seeking friction. With a steadying breath I grab the back of his neck and pull him towards me. I barely catch the battle being fought behind his heated stare before he’s burying his face in the crook of my neck with a sigh that shoots straight to my clit. Wet lips part against my hot skin as Braden begins marking it with strong sucks and peppered kisses until he nips at the area beside my collarbone, the muscles beneath my fingers bunching tight.

“Braden,” I whisper, eyes closed and head tilted off to the side. I could spend hours with his mouth on my body, worshipping me in the way only Braden can.

With a shaky exhale I drop my forehead to his shoulder and hold him against my bare chest. The threat of losing his touch is too consuming right now. I hate that I feel this way. That if he were to push himself away and leave me, right now, it would hurt—badly. It wouldn’t be like last time. I wouldn’t be able to pretend that it doesn’t bother me. He would leave his name etched in my skin. I’m just not sure how deep it would be yet.

I’m sure my eyes nearly roll back into my head when his fingers finally slide over my upper thighs before slipping between them. He pants against my neck while parting my lower lips and dragging one finger through my wetness, right up to swirl it around my throbbing clit. My breathing becomes heavy as I close my eyes. My lower lip slips between my teeth when he groans in my ear. “Always so wet for me, baby.”

I spread my thighs wide to give him the encouragement to slide a finger inside of me. And he does, before quickly adding another, alternating between a slow and fast pace while curling them inward, pressing down on the spot that has me snapping my eyes open with a sob.

"That’s right. Let me hear you. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

My neck is suddenly cold and it takes me a second to realize that Braden’s staring down at me now, no longer pressed tightly against me. His lips are swollen and red as they sit slightly parted. When his tongue swipes out to wet them, I know that I clench around his fingers, my thoughts overrun by memories of having that tongue slide along my pussy until my thighs were shaking.

“Answer me, baby. Tell me how good I make you feel and I’ll feast on that sweet, wet pussy until you beg me to stop,” he demands with a sharp twist of his fingers.

“Good. So good. Please, Braden. I need it.” I’m long past feeling embarrassed by how badly my body needs him or how quickly I fall apart around him. There’s no point. I can’t stop it, nor do I want to by denying myself the feelings that he invokes with a single touch or drop of his voice. Being with Braden like this is the only time where I’m not worrying about a deadline or working myself up over simple everyday tasks. I’m just Sierra when I’m with him. A very horny Sierra who would do just about anything for a mind numbing orgasm at the hands of a giant, hulk like man who knows what my body needs before I do.

Braden’s moving down the bed with a groan of approval. I squeak in surprise when two large hands grab under my ass and pull me down the bed so that I’m sprawled out like a starfish. Gripping the skin beneath my knees, he throws my legs over his giant shoulders and buries his face between them, swiping his tongue from my entrance to my clit, swirling it in a clockwise motion while keeping his eyes locked on mine. His stare is soft—unbelievably so as he repeats the motion over and over while watching me writhe beneath him, a string of profanities falling from my lips.

I reach for him, finding it hard to suck air into my lungs. My head is swimming, my thoughts clouding. I say his name like a plea, voice thick with need. Words fail me as I gasp and whimper, but he knows what I want. What I need.