Make Me Bad(59)

She fists my shirt and kisses me back with an angry vengeance. Our mouths slant together and our tongues touch and I’m grinding into her, gripping her ass, pulling up her legs so they wrap around me.

The gloves are off. The time for indecision is over. I came here with two options: fight for her or give her an easy out, a chance to leave me behind. It seems we’ve made up our minds.

I’m not going to walk away from Madison. She’ll have to find a new family—I’ll be her family. I’ll take care of her and shelter her and if her dad doesn’t like that, tough shit.

She melts against me, gripping, writhing, moaning. Her hands are unbuttoning my shirt and my hands are up under dress, pushing beneath her panties. I have her ass in my hands and I grip it like I’m as angry with it as I am with the last few days. We’ve been in hell and this is our reward, our light at the end of the tunnel.

“Ben,” she moans as my mouth trails down her cheek, her neck, her chest. I spin us around so she’s up against the wall. I use it to my advantage, leaning back and gaining better access. Her sweater dress is just stretchy enough that I can tug the neck to the side and expose one of her shoulders. If she’s wearing a bra, it’s strapless. On Friday night, in the ocean, I didn’t appreciate what I had. I felt like she hadn’t given me permission to touch her, not really.

Now…

Now I’m going to make up for that.

“Are there cameras in here?” I ask, breathless. If so, I’ll find a gun and shoot out the lenses. We’re not stopping.

“No. Wait—I don’t know. Who cares? Lenny is old and probably needs some excitement in his life.”

She’s saying this as she works my jacket off my shoulders. It falls to the floor. My shirt gaps open.

“What are we doing?” I ask, wanting to get everything out in the open. If this is some foreplay bullshit, I need to know now.

“What are we doing?” she mocks. “I thought you’d done this before…” She leans forward and takes my earlobe between her teeth. “I’m supposed to be the innocent one.”

Of course when she says that, in that tone, while dragging her tongue across my skin, I am gone. I’m the evil version of Ben everyone seems to want me to be. Poor Madison. For her first time, she deserves candles and rose petals and a Phil Collins playlist. I tell her that. I give her the out.

“I’ll take you to a fancy bed right now. I’ll make it special, memorable—scrapbook-worthy,” I promise as I hold her against the wall and start to bend to my knees.

Her eyes watch me as her head falls back. Her hand fists my hair. She knows where I’m headed and there’s a little blush on her cheeks that I want to kiss off.

“Madison?” I ask with a raised brow just as my lips touch her inner thigh. “Should we—”

“NO! We’re staying! This wall is really soft—cloud-like, even,” she says as I tug her dress up to her waist to expose her panties.

Lilac.

I let my face fall against them and the silky material tickles my nose. I want to die in this spot.

“Ben?” she asks, concerned.

“Who’s Ben?”

She laughs and yanks my hair, pulling me back just far enough that she can see my eyes.

“I’ve spent a lot of hours in this library, a lot of time with my nose stuck in a book. I want a memory that will make me blush every time I walk into this room. I want to do something bad…something very, very naughty.”

The edge of my mouth hitches up. “Naughty?”

Her laugh is cut short when my fingers catch on either side of her panties. Her stomach quivers as I give the first little tug. They slide down an inch and more of her creamy skin is exposed. Another inch and I can’t wait. I’m not a patient man. The panties can stay. I drag my middle finger down the very center of them, right over the silkiest part. Her resulting shudder is gas to a flame. I do it once more and her eyes flutter closed.

“Has a man ever touched you like this before?”

“No.”

I do it again, slower this time, making sure I hit the most tender spot.

“But I’ve touched myself before.”

My heart lurches in my chest. My dick strains against my zipper.

I stand back up and cover her body with mine, finding her mouth, kissing her at the exact moment my hand slides down into the top of her panties and I find her wet, wanting.

One finger glides inside smoothly, and Madison has never known the meaning of naughty before today. Her fingers dig into my forearms as I taunt her, running one finger up and down her seam. I drag that wetness up, up, up and swirl the pad of my middle finger while she loses brain cells.

My lips touch her neck, and the contact is too gentle to douse the flames. No, I’m fanning them. With my tongue. With my finger as it spins circles just slow enough to make her arch her back. I drag my hand up her over stomach and then back down. I’m talking to her, teaching her.

Do you want me to keep going lower? my fingers ask as they still on her hipbone.

Her skin is so flushed it’s a wonder she isn’t feverish.

She’s rolling her hips against me. Her body is telling me all the things she’s too shy to say.

She’s growing impatient.

She wants a release.

Friction.

Heat.