Beautiful Bastard Page 27

I pulled him to me by his shirt and slid my tongue into his mouth, groaning as his palm pressed against me. Our lips searched; our kisses grew long and deep, gaining urgency with every inch of skin uncovered. I pulled his shirt from his pants and explored the smooth skin over his ribs, the sharp definition of muscle at his hips, and the soft trail of hair urging me down his navel and lower.

Wanting to tease him the way he was teasing me, I ran my fingers across his belt and to the hard shape of him beneath his pants.

He groaned into my mouth. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Tell me,” I whispered back. I was using his words against him, and just knowing the tables were turned for the moment spurred me on. “Tell me and I’ll give you what you want.”

He moaned and bit his lip, his forehead pressed against mine as he shivered. “I want you to f**k me.”

His hands were shaking as he gripped my new panties in his fist, and as insane as it was, I wanted him to rip them. The raw passion between us was unlike anything I’d ever experienced; I didn’t want him holding back. Without a word, he tore them from me, the pain of the fabric pulling across my skin only adding to the pleasure.

I pulled my leg forward and pushed him back and off me. Sitting up, I shoved him against the seat back and straddled his lap. I grabbed his shirt and yanked it open, sending the buttons scattering along the seat.

I was lost to everything but him and this. The feel of the air against my skin, the ragged sounds of our breathing, the heat of his kiss, and the thought of what lay ahead. With frantic hands I undid his belt and pants, and with his help managed to get them down his legs. The tip of his c**k grazed my entrance and I closed my eyes, slowly sliding down over him.

“Oh, God,” I groaned, the sensation of him inside me only making the bittersweet ache intensify. Lifting my hips, I began to ride him, each movement feeling more intense than the one before. The pain from his rough fingertips on my hips only fueled my lust. His eyes were closed and his moans were muffled against my breast. Moving his lips across my lace bra he pulled one cup down and took my hardened nipple between his teeth. I gripped his hair tightly and elicited a moan from him, his mouth opening around my skin.

“Bite me,” I whispered.

He bit down, hard, making me cry out and pull harder on his hair.

My body was so in tune with his, it reacted to his every look and touch and sound. I both hated and loved how he made me feel. I’d never been one to lose control, but when he touched me like this, I happily threw it out the window.

“Do you like feeling my teeth?” he asked, his breath short and jagged. “Do you fantasize about where else I could bite you?”

I pushed on his chest and stared up at him. “You just don’t know when to shut your mouth, do you?”

He lifted me off and roughly threw me down onto the seat. Pushing my legs apart he thrust back into me. My car was too small for this, but there was nothing that could have stopped us now. Even with his legs bent awkwardly below him and my arms braced above me to protect my head from the door, it was almost too much.

Pulling himself onto his knees and into a more comfortable position, he picked up one of my legs and placed it over his shoulder, forcing his c**k deeper inside me.

“Oh, God, yes.”

“Yeah?” He lifted my other leg to rest across his other shoulder. Reaching out, he gripped the door frame and used it for leverage to deepen his thrusts. “Is that how you like it?” The change in angle caused me to gasp, as the most delicious sensations spread throughout my body.

“No.” With my hands pushing off the door, I lifted my hips off the seat to meet each motion of his hips. “I like it harder.”

“Fuck,” he murmured as he turned his head slightly, his open mouth leaving wet kisses up and down my leg. By now our bodies were glistening with sweat, the windows were completely fogged up, and our groans filled the silent space of the car. The dim glow from the garage lights emphasized every carved indentation and muscle of the masterpiece above me. I watched him in awe, his body straining with the effort, his hair mussed and sticking to his damp forehead, the tendons in his neck pulled tight.

Ducking his head between his outstretched arms, he closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. “Oh, God,” he panted. “I just . . . I can’t stop.”

I arched to get closer, needing to find a way to pull him deeper, more completely into me. I’d never wanted to consume another body as rabidly as I did when he was inside me, but even like this, I could never seem to get close enough to the parts of him I wanted to feel. And it was with that thought in my mind that the delicious, ratcheting tension along my skin and in my belly crystallized into an ache so heavy I slipped my legs off his shoulders, pulling all of his weight on top of me and pleading, “Please, please, please,” over and over.

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