Read Online Dirty Trick by Christine Bell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christine Bell
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committed to memory for life. In fact, he’d be able to pick them out in a room filled with breasts. So what to say to her now, when the look of wild abandon was slowly changing back to one of insecurity?
“I’m a little cold,” he said.
Because they were in a sauna. So that made sense. He was clearly not in a position to talk his way out of this one, so he did the next best thing. Distraction. He swiveled his hips, grinding his aching cock against her sweet spot until her eyes drifted closed and her hand lay limp in his. He didn’t stop as he searched the billfold still in his pocket until he found the emergency condom that he’d kept there precisely for this occasion. The day that Gracie finally realized that she wanted to sleep with him.
He continued his pelvic grind while he made quick work of the wrapper. She opened her eyes at the tearing sound and shifted away so he could slip it on. It took some doing since he was hard as a baseball bat, but then it was done and she sat back on her heels, staring down at him.
“Ready?” she asked, a shy, but hungry smile playing around her full lips.
He was way the fuck past ready. “Yeah.”
She took him awkwardly in hand and shimmied over him. After a few misses and one mortified but funny, “Oops, wrong door!” she settled over him with a sigh, sinking by centimeters onto his straining shaft. It seemed like a year before she was fully seated, but it was the best, most excruciating year of his life. He was buried deep and could feel the stretch of her channel, fluttering, opening to accommodate him. He lifted his head to look. To see himself inside her, but the expression on her face caught him. Her head was thrown back, the mane of curls that he loved wild around her shoulders, her mouth a pretty “o” and her brow wrinkled like she was in pain…but not.
He pumped his hips once, nudging deeper still, and she gasped.
“It’s so full. I just want to stay—”
He thrust up again, angling into the general g-spot area. Hopefully—
“Son of a bitch!” she snarled, her thighs working up before slamming down again and taking him back to that place. No more cockadoodly. She was letting the curses fly now. That was excellent. Her frown deepened, and the chanting started again. He watched, enthralled as she fucked him, sliding high, then plummeting down, all the while whispering. “What is that? That’s soooo…”
He wanted to take it slow. To keep that even, driving pace until she couldn’t stand it for another second. To make her wait for it. To make her come. And then come again. But she’d found something she wanted now, and it was clear that she wasn’t going to stop until she got it.
He ignored his body’s urgent messages, telling him that if he didn’t slow her down, he was going to explode. Instead, he clenched every muscle and began a mental chant of his own. “Do not fucking blow this. Do not fucking blow this. Do not fuck—”
“Oh-god-Jesus.” Grace arched over him, her back bowed so hard he feared she might snap in two. Her eyes were squeezed closed tight, and her mouth worked wordlessly now. He was in awe of how damned beautiful she was, but it was the activity on the bottom half that had him barreling toward home. She clenched over him in pulsing waves, her tight channel milking his cock, relentlessly.
Lights exploded behind his eyelids, and the breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He let go while she still shuddered above him and came hard on a low growl, his shaft jerking and pumping into her. He curled his arms around her bottom and pinned her against him tight as he emptied himself into her clutching heat. For a full minute afterward, he couldn’t speak for fear of what crazy thing he might say.
Gracie, I’ve waited so long for this and the reality makes the fantasy seem like dime-store viewing-room porn.
Gracie, it’s really me and I love you.
Gracie, will you fucking marry me?
“That was…” She didn’t finish her
“I’m a little cold,” he said.
Because they were in a sauna. So that made sense. He was clearly not in a position to talk his way out of this one, so he did the next best thing. Distraction. He swiveled his hips, grinding his aching cock against her sweet spot until her eyes drifted closed and her hand lay limp in his. He didn’t stop as he searched the billfold still in his pocket until he found the emergency condom that he’d kept there precisely for this occasion. The day that Gracie finally realized that she wanted to sleep with him.
He continued his pelvic grind while he made quick work of the wrapper. She opened her eyes at the tearing sound and shifted away so he could slip it on. It took some doing since he was hard as a baseball bat, but then it was done and she sat back on her heels, staring down at him.
“Ready?” she asked, a shy, but hungry smile playing around her full lips.
He was way the fuck past ready. “Yeah.”
She took him awkwardly in hand and shimmied over him. After a few misses and one mortified but funny, “Oops, wrong door!” she settled over him with a sigh, sinking by centimeters onto his straining shaft. It seemed like a year before she was fully seated, but it was the best, most excruciating year of his life. He was buried deep and could feel the stretch of her channel, fluttering, opening to accommodate him. He lifted his head to look. To see himself inside her, but the expression on her face caught him. Her head was thrown back, the mane of curls that he loved wild around her shoulders, her mouth a pretty “o” and her brow wrinkled like she was in pain…but not.
He pumped his hips once, nudging deeper still, and she gasped.
“It’s so full. I just want to stay—”
He thrust up again, angling into the general g-spot area. Hopefully—
“Son of a bitch!” she snarled, her thighs working up before slamming down again and taking him back to that place. No more cockadoodly. She was letting the curses fly now. That was excellent. Her frown deepened, and the chanting started again. He watched, enthralled as she fucked him, sliding high, then plummeting down, all the while whispering. “What is that? That’s soooo…”
He wanted to take it slow. To keep that even, driving pace until she couldn’t stand it for another second. To make her wait for it. To make her come. And then come again. But she’d found something she wanted now, and it was clear that she wasn’t going to stop until she got it.
He ignored his body’s urgent messages, telling him that if he didn’t slow her down, he was going to explode. Instead, he clenched every muscle and began a mental chant of his own. “Do not fucking blow this. Do not fucking blow this. Do not fuck—”
“Oh-god-Jesus.” Grace arched over him, her back bowed so hard he feared she might snap in two. Her eyes were squeezed closed tight, and her mouth worked wordlessly now. He was in awe of how damned beautiful she was, but it was the activity on the bottom half that had him barreling toward home. She clenched over him in pulsing waves, her tight channel milking his cock, relentlessly.
Lights exploded behind his eyelids, and the breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He let go while she still shuddered above him and came hard on a low growl, his shaft jerking and pumping into her. He curled his arms around her bottom and pinned her against him tight as he emptied himself into her clutching heat. For a full minute afterward, he couldn’t speak for fear of what crazy thing he might say.
Gracie, I’ve waited so long for this and the reality makes the fantasy seem like dime-store viewing-room porn.
Gracie, it’s really me and I love you.
Gracie, will you fucking marry me?
“That was…” She didn’t finish her
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