Dirty
Page 55“See? Not so bad,” he mumbled, rubbing his nose against my cheek. God, I wish he’d get closer. Inside me would be good.
“No. Not so bad.”
“Mm.”
I eased my feet back flat upon the floor, wound my arms around his neck. His hair was better than mine. Soft and silken. Bet the man only washed it with soap or something too. How unfair.
“Do you have a condom on you?” I said, threading my fingers through his hair, stroking the back of his neck, touching as much of the man as I could.
“Went and got a box on my break. A big one. I stocked up just for you.”
“Excellent.”
His hands slipped behind my back, fiddling with something. Then the weight of my breasts shifted, the straps of my bra loosening. “So … my story.”
“Yep?” How he expected me to concentrate on anything, I have no idea.
“Understandable,” I said. “Can I just quickly say how much I’m enjoying hearing about one of your ex-girlfriends right now?”
This time he nipped where my neck and shoulder joined, biting down harder, holding on longer. When he eased the wound he spread his lips wide, sucking on a larger area, drawing hard. Hands spread across my back, he held me against him, leaving no space between us. Blood rushed through me, loud behind my ears. My nerves fired, half in heaven, half in hell. All of me confused as shit.
The man was part vampire and I had the worst feeling I liked it. A lot.
“That one’s going to leave a mark,” he reported matter-of-factly. As if he weren’t affected. Like his cock wasn’t prodding my stomach, hard as stone.
A smartass reply would have to wait, however. I was too busy just breathing.
Vaughan eased back, searching my face for something. When he didn’t find whatever it was, he slid a hand down between my legs. He pulled aside my panties and slid a finger carefully into me. Though there was no real need to be careful. Lubricant factories would have been envious. The state of my underwear was a damn disgrace.
“Hot and wet,” he said.
I frowned. “Was I not supposed to be?”
“That makes sense.”
“Hmm.” His thumb slid up into my panties, sliding dangerously near my overexcited clit. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair. The man winced, but didn’t complain. And let the record show, he was breathing every bit as heavily as I was.
“Should we have a safety word or something?” I asked, trying to thinks straight, to be practical.
“Sure. If it makes you feel better.”
“Okay.” The finger inside of me swirled around, pumping in and out, doing everything good. Every muscle down there contracted in glee. I could feel my pulse hammering between my legs. “Oh god, that feels good.”
“What’s your safety word, babe?”
“Keep doing that or I’ll kill you?”
“What this?” The clever finger teased my entrance, spreading the wetness around.
“Soon,” he said, slowly withdrawing his hand from my panties. Dammit.
I gave a sad, pitiful kind of moan. “No. Now.”
“So, she tells me I have to start thinking of something else when we’re having sex.” He pressed his thigh between my legs, keeping a constant pressure against my nether regions. Those being all of my fun girl bits, currently in desperate need of attention. It was impossible not to push back hard, even though it eased the ache only a little. His story eased nothing at all, and was quite frankly a distraction.
“I have to keep my mind busy while we’re doing it, she says.” He held my hip with one hand, sliding the other between my breast and bra cup, easing the material down. “She asks me what I like. I say, I really like Fender guitars.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said, trying to stay polite.
“So I have to think about Fender guitars.”
“Fender guitars. Right.”
“Are you paying attention?” he asked. His thumb rubbed over my hard nipple, making everything that much worse (better). Hell, the way he looked at me with such hunger. I didn’t know how much more I could take. The heat of his skin and the scent of his sweat, everything about the man made me insane. Insatiable. Whatever.