thinking and didn’t make me spell it out.
“Yes. And I think you’ll find I excel at them. Particularly oral.” His deep-set gaze was directed my way and that full, pouty mouth was just inches from mine. . . .
Holy. Crap. The look on his face. I was defenseless. “Umm . . . we’ll see about that, Mr. Shaw.”
He fixed me with an intense stare and leaned in close, his nose brushing past my jaw. I felt him inhale against my neck. “I wonder if you taste good.” His low whisper caused heat to drift from my neck and pool at the base of my spine. His warm, wet tongue slid against my neck and I whimpered in response at the sudden, heated, longing ache between my thighs.
His hand slid down the front of my jeans and into my panties. “Fuck. You’re soaking wet, baby.” He kissed my throat, his breath tickling my ear. “I know you want me to fuck you. But we’ll do things your way this time, okay?”
His fingers slid against me, massaging the slick, swollen tissue. Pleasure rocketed through me. I’d fantasized about his touch, and now that it was actually happening it was beyond any expectations I’d had. His skilled fingers massaged my clit with just enough pressure and a lazy rhythm that allowed the pleasure to build slowly.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered. He palmed one breast while his other hand remained buried in my panties.
I was soft, with extra padding on my hips, thighs, and breasts; my body was curvy and womanly, and though I would have thought this was a bad thing—especially for a toned and firm model like him—he seemed to like it.
He kissed a wet path across my neck as his hands explored. I should’ve stopped him but my mind was numb and my body was all kinds of lit up. I wanted more. I deserved more, didn’t I? I’d been the good girl for so long.
He slid one long finger inside me and I whimpered, arching my back. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you?” He kissed my neck while his finger continued its slow progression, sliding in and out of me in a careful rhythm.
“Ben . . .” I groaned, frustrated by his measured strokes. I needed more.
“Tell me,” he growled.
“I need it harder.”
His mouth captured mine while his finger plunged deeper inside me, his bicep flexing with the motion. He added a second finger and pressed his thumb against the top of my sex. I moaned loudly, rocking my hips against his hand. I didn’t care that I looked like a horny mess. Hell, I was a horny mess.
He rhythmically fingered me in and out, his thick fingers filling an ache left untouched for too long. And now, Ben Shaw was in my bed. Holy hell.
Ben
She might have told me she didn’t want this, but her body disagreed. She had sent me all kinds of signals. She liked this. A lot. Her breathing came in soft pants and her hips rocked closer. I didn’t even think she realized she was doing it. She wanted me inside her, even if she wouldn’t admit it. But I didn’t want to ask her. I couldn’t bear to hear her tell me to stop. I needed to touch this girl.
“That feel good, baby?” I needed to hear her say it did. I was naturally pretty aggressive and that had always served me well with girls, but something told me Emmy wouldn’t like being told what to do. As much as I’d like to command her to strip naked, take off her panties, and stand before me, I wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready. She was too skittish around me. Too unsure.
“Mmm . . .” She let out a soft groan, her only signal that this felt good. She let her eyes slide closed and her head rested in the crook of my neck. That wouldn’t do. I wanted to see her face when she came, but I let her remain there, feeling the soft pant of breath against my neck. It felt nice.
She was by far the classiest girl I’d been with. Double major in college. She was smart, hardworking, and articulate. She didn’t sleep around. I could tell she was two seconds from pulling the plug on this whole thing, and I couldn’t let that
“Yes. And I think you’ll find I excel at them. Particularly oral.” His deep-set gaze was directed my way and that full, pouty mouth was just inches from mine. . . .
Holy. Crap. The look on his face. I was defenseless. “Umm . . . we’ll see about that, Mr. Shaw.”
He fixed me with an intense stare and leaned in close, his nose brushing past my jaw. I felt him inhale against my neck. “I wonder if you taste good.” His low whisper caused heat to drift from my neck and pool at the base of my spine. His warm, wet tongue slid against my neck and I whimpered in response at the sudden, heated, longing ache between my thighs.
His hand slid down the front of my jeans and into my panties. “Fuck. You’re soaking wet, baby.” He kissed my throat, his breath tickling my ear. “I know you want me to fuck you. But we’ll do things your way this time, okay?”
His fingers slid against me, massaging the slick, swollen tissue. Pleasure rocketed through me. I’d fantasized about his touch, and now that it was actually happening it was beyond any expectations I’d had. His skilled fingers massaged my clit with just enough pressure and a lazy rhythm that allowed the pleasure to build slowly.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered. He palmed one breast while his other hand remained buried in my panties.
I was soft, with extra padding on my hips, thighs, and breasts; my body was curvy and womanly, and though I would have thought this was a bad thing—especially for a toned and firm model like him—he seemed to like it.
He kissed a wet path across my neck as his hands explored. I should’ve stopped him but my mind was numb and my body was all kinds of lit up. I wanted more. I deserved more, didn’t I? I’d been the good girl for so long.
He slid one long finger inside me and I whimpered, arching my back. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you?” He kissed my neck while his finger continued its slow progression, sliding in and out of me in a careful rhythm.
“Ben . . .” I groaned, frustrated by his measured strokes. I needed more.
“Tell me,” he growled.
“I need it harder.”
His mouth captured mine while his finger plunged deeper inside me, his bicep flexing with the motion. He added a second finger and pressed his thumb against the top of my sex. I moaned loudly, rocking my hips against his hand. I didn’t care that I looked like a horny mess. Hell, I was a horny mess.
He rhythmically fingered me in and out, his thick fingers filling an ache left untouched for too long. And now, Ben Shaw was in my bed. Holy hell.
Ben
She might have told me she didn’t want this, but her body disagreed. She had sent me all kinds of signals. She liked this. A lot. Her breathing came in soft pants and her hips rocked closer. I didn’t even think she realized she was doing it. She wanted me inside her, even if she wouldn’t admit it. But I didn’t want to ask her. I couldn’t bear to hear her tell me to stop. I needed to touch this girl.
“That feel good, baby?” I needed to hear her say it did. I was naturally pretty aggressive and that had always served me well with girls, but something told me Emmy wouldn’t like being told what to do. As much as I’d like to command her to strip naked, take off her panties, and stand before me, I wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready. She was too skittish around me. Too unsure.
“Mmm . . .” She let out a soft groan, her only signal that this felt good. She let her eyes slide closed and her head rested in the crook of my neck. That wouldn’t do. I wanted to see her face when she came, but I let her remain there, feeling the soft pant of breath against my neck. It felt nice.
She was by far the classiest girl I’d been with. Double major in college. She was smart, hardworking, and articulate. She didn’t sleep around. I could tell she was two seconds from pulling the plug on this whole thing, and I couldn’t let that
Similar Books
