Sweet Liar (Dirty Sweet, #1)(34)

Fuck...this girl. She was going to be the death of me.

A bead of cum gathered at the crown, and her tongue flicked out across her lower lip.

“No,” I scolded with a stern finger. “This is not for your mouth.” If she were to take me that way, I wasn’t sure how long I’d last. Certainly not long enough, and while I was pretty sure she made me hot enough to recover quickly, I wasn’t going to make an ass of myself and prove otherwise.

Her lips turned down into an exaggerated pout. “But I’ve been such a good girl.”

“Patience. You’ll get it where you need it.” I reached around to her back to undo her bra while she stroked the length of me, causing my spine to tingle and my balls to draw up. “Take my jumper off,” I commanded, attempting to distract her.

“Okay, Daddy.”

If she’d still been holding me when she’d said that, I definitely would have exploded. How long had it been since I’d been with a woman? I tried to recall as she lifted my pullover up and over my head. Not too long. A matter of months. Six maybe. Not so long that I should be so near out of control.

Except that the last time I’d been with a woman, it hadn’t been this woman. This woman hit my buttons, wound me up, got me hot like no one I could remember in a long time. Possibly ever, though that was likely an exaggeration. There was no way I was thinking rationally in a moment like this, after all.

With my torso bare, Audrey found something else to steal her attention. “Dylan…you’ve been hiding some seriously toned pecs.” She traced the planes of my chest with the tips of her fingers, then bent forward to swirl her tongue around one very lucky nipple. When she moved to the other, she peered up at me, her eyes dark and dilated under long lashes.

Breathtaking.

That was the word for her. She stole the air from my lungs. She smothered me with her beauty, with her bewitching character. She made me heady and delirious, and if this was what it felt like to die of suffocation, I’d gladly choose this method of death anyday. Every day.

I wound my hand in the length of her hair and sharply pulled her up to face me. “Take the bra the rest of the way off. Panties too,” I whispered against her lips. I kissed her, quickly. “I’m getting the condom.”

I pulled open the nightstand drawer where I’d tucked a new box of condoms I’d purchased earlier in the week and retrieved a single black and gold packet. We hadn’t discussed protection, but if she wanted to learn, this was something I insisted be taught—protection. Always. Without exception.

And thank God for a rubber sheath. It was the only chance I had at lasting more than a minute inside her.

When I turned back to her, she was completely naked, and I had to blink several times in order to take her in without combusting. Everything about her was pink and supple. Her puffy, well-kissed lips, the bloom of her cheeks that extended down her neck to the dusky tips of her breasts, the flush of her pussy, wet and swollen between her spread thighs.

Wet and swollen and waiting for me to fill her up.

I stripped my clothes the rest of the way off at lightning speed, and ripped open the condom packet. I was seconds from rolling it over the throbbing steel jutting from my pelvis when she spoke up.

“Can I put it on?”

The few remaining pints of blood that hadn’t yet made it there, surged to my cock in a rush. “Have you ever put one on before?”

She bit her lip and shook her head.

“Then it seems this is the perfect opportunity to learn, doesn’t it?”

She perched herself on the side of the bed, and I handed her the unwrapped condom. She studied it for a moment, working out which direction was up, then set it on my crown.

“I don’t want it to break,” she explained as she delicately smoothed it over the length of me.

She looked so innocent and na?ve with her small hands wrapped around the circumference of my erection, her brows knit together in concentration. I was a dirty old man in contrast. A man old enough to be experienced at fucking by the time she was born. A man with scars worn on my aging skin and wounds that ran deeper, unseen by the naked eye. A man who knew better than to believe that sex with a woman like Audrey could ever be casual.

A man who could still crawl to shore if he tried, but didn’t have the willpower to do anything except sink.

With a burst of outrage—outrage at myself for being so foolish, outrage at her for being so potently irresistible—I flipped her so she was bent over the bed, lined myself at her entrance, and drove all the way into her cunt with one blunt thrust. She cried out at the force, her body trying to jolt forward, but I dug my fingers into her hips and kept her steady and in place, ready for me to pound into her again and again. She squeaked and wriggled and grew wetter until she adjusted. Then she moaned and leaned back into the slap, slap, slap of my thighs against hers.

I wished I could watch her, wished I could scrutinize each wrinkle in her face while I stretched her and filled her and punished her pussy for being so perfect, so tight, so inexperienced. But I couldn’t face her right now, couldn’t look into her guileless expression while I fucked her like a well-used whore.

Because that was exactly how I fucked her—like I’d paid for the hour. Apropos since I had a feeling, when this was all said and done, there would be a price to pay. I just hoped I could afford the cost.

She was a good girl for me. She told me what she wanted with her sounds, with the rhythm of her breathing, with the way her cunt clutched at my violent stabs. She obeyed me when I demanded that she played with herself, and she stayed with the effort even as she shattered around my cock, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.