Frayed (Torn #2)(33)
He closed the hairsbreadth space between us. Cheek to cheek, my heart galloped loudly against his wildly beating heart. “Fine, you want to f*uk. You want to lose yourself in sexual gluttony to forget whatever shit you’re going through. Well, I’ve got the best solution for you. Why don’t you use me instead? I’ll do whatever you want. Use me however you want.” His husky, downright seductive voice sent acute, electrifying waves of potent arousal into my core. My underwear suddenly felt moist. Shit.
My body tensed and clenched as I tried to hold back from responding to him. His offer was tempting, but I couldn’t possibly consider the idea. Taylor evoked emotions that were too troubling for me to entertain. I already feared I had the Hero Syndrome crap going on. He’d already rattled me. If I added sex on top of the list, it would be too much to handle. Besides, the fact that I might see him in LA, yeah, I had reason enough to back away.
I needed him to fight back and dash that idea of him as my stud slave. “Who the hell do you think you are? Swooping in like you’re some cock in shining armor? This is stupid.” I stomped past him. Taylor immediately grabbed my arm and dragged me back against the wall. For the first time tonight, my eyes examined my surroundings. A sizable, square, office table, a small couch and about eight filing cabinets summed up the space in its entirety. I noted how the room was dimly lit. The only lights were the small red dot on the smoke alarm and a tiny night-light.
Taylor extended his left arm to reach the door. I freaked when I heard the lock click. Aw, hell no. Who did he think he was messing with, a f*uking Barbie? I moved and tried to reach the door. “Get me the hell out of here, you stupid prick!” I shoved past him, but his steel-hardened arm circled my hip, as he swiftly dragged me towards the table. He planted my ass at the edge and his daunting body ensconced my tiny frame, trapping me until I was at his mercy.
I peered at him, my body fearful yet thrilled at the same time at his crass, dominating attitude. “What the hell, Taylor—”
His eyes were dark and formidable, unreadable. Utterly and completely menacing. “SHUT. THE. f*uk. UP! Trista. For once, just shut the f*uk up!” He barked at me before he savagely devoured my lips. He kissed like a man who was famished. It was voracious, punishing, and absolutely ravenous—like a man who was at the point of no return.
Hell, I devoured him like he was my last meal on earth, too. His barbaric he-man behavior inflamed by body and it surrendered to him without hesitation. One touch of his lips was all it took, all fight and conviction completely left me.
I couldn’t help moaning when he held me possessively, kissed me passionately. I threw my head back when he started to nip my neck. “I promise I’ll f*uk you good. So, good, you will forget about that guy that you’re so in love with.”
Oh, yes. The images his words paint in my mind were definitely what I needed. Dirty mouth Taylor, now that I can sign up for! It was fascinatingly sexy and utterly delicious. It was a serious turn on. Hell, I was deliriously turned on. I had an idea of what it would be like to be in his arms, but this was beyond what I had contemplated. This animal of a man was unexpected.
“Hurry up and f*uk me, then. I’ll let you know after if lived up to that offer.” I ordered, but inside, I was begging. I was beyond saving now. My body fevered for his touch, for his possession.
He immediately parted my legs. My dress slid upwards, giving him access to my womanhood. Fascinated, I watched his head drift down to the V of my thighs. His nose touched my lace thong and I stilled when I heard him inhale my scent. I was taken aback when he bit the top of my slit, over the thong. “Shit!” I unexpectedly hissed. It wasn’t painful or anything, but I was shocked. What kind of kinkiness was this guy into?
I got my answer when he started to eat me out over my thong. It was unexpected and completely different from anything I had experience before, but maybe a change would be good. I certainly didn’t need to be reminded of Harry. That man was a fan of traditional, missionary style f*uking.
Taylor’s large hands slid underneath me where he gripped my ass cheeks, locking me in place, at the mercy of his mouth. I started to pant when I felt his hot tongue trace the side of my thong, gliding across it in a torturous motion, seeking entrance to my pu**y. The first feather-like stroke was heavenly. I was dripping wet, burning hot, and f*uking ready. Yet Taylor continued taking the long route and I didn’t know if I should moan or cry from frustration. “Oh. I. Taylor!” I incoherently said as that powerful tongue of his gave my clit a lashing, beating it with grueling accuracy.
“More, I want more,” I panted, throwing my head back, My fingers reached out and clutched his hair, pushing my pu**y into his face. A whimpering sound came from me when he stuck a finger inside my hot entrance. He used that finger to probe and tease me, while his thumb rubbed my clitoris at the same time. With his left hand doing its ministrations on my pu**y, Taylor slowly trailed kisses, over my dress, from my navel all the way to my chest. From the valley of my breasts, he stuck his tongue out and licked his way up until he reached the crook of my neck. He nipped there and sucked on my earlobe as his right-hand hastily unhooked my halter-top, exposing my breasts.
He groaned at the sight of them. “God, these tits. I’ve lusted for them for far too long.” His large hand cupped one, feeling its weight before he gave it a hard squeeze. His thumb speedily circled my nipple while his mouth bit and sucked the life out of my other breast. Three different parts, three different sensations, all with a relentless mission to make me come while getting me ready to be f*uked by this gifted man.