Play - Scott Kylie - Страница 38

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He didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up my legs, under my skirt, going straight for the kill, god love him.

“Need something?” he asked, fingers stroking over my thighs.

“You.”

“Fuck. Anne.” His mouth chased mine, pushing for more, deeper. And holy hell, was I happy to give. The tips of his clever fingers stroked the crotch of my panties, making every corner of me light up in response. If anything stopped us this time, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

“Keep doing that,” I panted, tugging the tie from his ponytail to loosen his hair.

“You don’t want this instead?” The pad of his thumb pressed against my clit, moving in small circles.

“Oh, god.” My head fall back, sensation rushing through me. I was so turned on it was embarrassing. The damp fabric of my panties told the tale. But we’d had days and days of foreplay, really. Long before I’d met him I’d wanted him, though reality far exceeded my expectations. Mal Ericson was my dream come true. The kissathon at David and Ev’s, lying awake missing him last night, these things had already pushed me to the edge. Safety and sensible be damned. I’d get as much of him as I could for as long as I could.

“That’s it,” he murmured.

I pushed forward against his hand, seeking more. He cradled the back of my skull, holding up my head so he could see. “You are so fucking pretty. Have I told you that?”

No idea. And if he expected me to answer, he’d be waiting a while.

“I should’ve told you that,” he said.

I just stared at him, dazed. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. The elegant lines of his face made me want to write bad poetry. And the sound of his voice, his words, they were all so perfect and good. But then my insides tightened, and there was nothing there to hold on to. I was so horribly empty I ached.

“I need …” Forget talking. I started tearing at his belt buckle instead, ripping into the button and zip of his jeans. My thigh muscles burned from gripping him and if the car stopped suddenly I’d be in serious trouble.

“You can have whatever you want, Anne. Just ask for it.”

“I want you.”

Fingers traced the seam of my sex, making my head swim.

“How do you want me?” he asked, his hand coaxing a moan from me. I rested my cheek against his, lungs struggling for air. “Hmm?”

“Inside me.” Words were a hassle and so was his zipper. “Mal, please … stop playing with me.”

“But you love me playing with you.”

I held his face in my hands, my mouth rigid. “Enough.”

Just as well I was sitting down, otherwise his smile would have floored me. Arrogant, gorgeous bastard.

“Okay.” Mal pulled his hand out from under my skirt. I could have wept for the loss of the lovely pressure. Much more important, however, to get him into me as soon as humanly possible.

“Hop off a sec,” he said.

He lifted me aside and pushed down his jeans and underwear, dug a condom out of his pocket. I stopped dead at the sight of his cock, jutting out large and loud. I needed more time to look. How mad would he get if I tried to take a picture? It would be purely for my own personal use, of course.

“Anne,” he said, breaking my concentration. “Panties off. Now.”

“Right.” My skirt had already bunched up around my waist. I hooked my thumbs in either side and shimmied them down, kicking off my ankle boots at the same time. Coordinated and cool I was not, but only getting myself bare from the waist down mattered.

He opened the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled it on.

“C’mon.” Big hands gripped my hips, pulling me back over his lap. I grabbed hold of his shoulders for balance and stared at his face, memorizing him. This moment needed to go down in history with every last detail imprinted for all time. From the curve of his cheekbones and line of his jaw to the small dip in his top lip that I was dying to kiss and lick, I didn’t want to forget a thing.

He slipped a finger into me and my muscles spasmed in shock at the intrusion.

“Okay?” he asked, holding still.

I nodded. “Just caught me by surprise.”

Slowly, he eased in deeper, making me squirm. Ever so skillfully he worked me higher and higher. His thumb rubbed around my clit while he stroked over some sweet spot inside of me. Someone somewhere had given up the secrets of my pussy; the man knew everything. I couldn’t remember anyone ever turning me on so effortlessly.

“Fuck, you feel good, my finger’s in heaven.”

“Mal, please …” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for. I wanted his fingers, his cock, his mouth, his everything. The man made me greedy.

His finger slid out of me, teasing over my lips, spreading me gently open. My pelvis moved of its own accord, grinding against his hand. My moans were so loud the driver had to have heard them despite the divider. Did I care? Nope.

“We’re ready,” Mal announced.

We so were.

One hand held my hip while the other moved his cock into position. The press of him sliding against my labia had me seeing stars. I didn’t know how I’d survive more. Slowly, steadily, I sunk down on him. His nostrils flared as I took him deep. I didn’t stop until I sat atop his bare thighs, the hair on his legs tickling me.

“There we go.” His focus on me was complete, his gaze searching my face, taking in everything. It left me no room to hide. A problem, given I had the stupidest impulse to burst into tears or something.

Since when did sex mean so much?

“I want to move,” I said. But the hands on my waist held me down. The feel of him filling me couldn’t be described. It bordered on being too much.

“Wait.” He reached up, kissing me soft and slow. “Just gimme a minute. Fucking perfect. Been waiting to feel you for forever.”

I rocked against him, getting past desperate.

We were still dressed up top, but oh man, the things we were doing down below.

“Mal,” I breathed. “Now.”

Fingers dug into my ass, drawing me up his hard length before easing me slowly back down, letting me get used to the feel of his thick cock. That same motion, over and over, again and again, was heaven. The slide of him into me made my blood run red hot. Slow was too good. It melted my mind.

Gradually, I started picking up the pace, his hands helping me along. Faster and harder, I rode him. Nothing could compare to the solid heat of him dragging over sweet places inside of me, turning me liquid. I slammed down onto his hard length, working us both into a frenzy. Sweat slicked our skin. My spine tingled; my whole body was shaking with need. This was life and death and a billion other things I never even knew existed. The tension inside me grew to exquisite gigantic proportions. His thumb slid back and forth over my clit and the whole wide world burst open. My hips bucked and I hid my face against his shoulder as I came hard, biting down through his Henley. A mouthful of cotton tried to muffle the noise escaping my throat.

It went on and on until I fell limp against him, lost and found and everything in between.

Mal groaned, holding me down on his cock. He was growling something. It might have been my name, in which case I appreciated the sentiment. The minute I could, I’d be sure to tell him thanks.

I never wanted to move. Never ever. Or at least, not until the next round.

We sat slumped on the limousine’s backseat in silence. Sweat and body fluids glued our thighs and groins together. Every muscle in me trembled. Holy fucking hell. That had been epic.

“You alive?” he asked after a while, brushing my hair back behind my ear.

I gazed up at him, slack jawed and fuck drunk. Best feeling ever. “It was okay, I guess.”

Crap, my words were slurred. My tongue had turned thick and dumb.

“Yeah?” He didn’t bother to hold back the smile.

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