Everything for Us (The Bad Boys #3)(27)
Author: M. Leighton

His words are delicious fingers that tickle my skin. Chills spread across my chest and down my abdomen. I feel my ni**les tingle as if he were actually doing what he said. Hot, sticky honey gushes to the apex of my thighs.

“I want to know what you like, how you like to be touched. And you’re going to show me. Bring your hands to your br**sts. And touch them.”

I’m long past being embarrassed. It’s either go big or go home. And I’m already here. So I’m going big.

Raising my hands, I cup my br**sts. His eyes follow my movements.

“Squeeze them,” he commands, so I do, massaging them in a slow, gentle knead. “Now the ni**les,” he says. “Pinch them, make them hard.” Taking the pebbles between my thumb and forefinger, I roll them until they are like firm buttons. “That’s right, baby. Now put one hand between your legs.”

My face burns, but I’m only vaguely aware of it. I’m transfixed by Nash’s hot gaze. His eyes are black as sin and heavy lidded as he watches me. They follow one of my hands as it travels down my stomach to the achy spot between my thighs. When I move my palm over my damp flesh, his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips. My pulse speeds up in direct correlation. “Mmm, I love watching you make yourself feel good.”

It’s incredibly erotic, listening to his words, touching myself with him watching, knowing he’s enjoying it.

“Come lie down on the bed with me.”

I’m so ready to feel his hands on me, I don’t even ask any questions. I simply walk to the bed and sit beside him.

“Lie back,” he commands softly, his eyes never leaving mine. They’re dark and forbidden. Just like Nash himself. He’s inaccessible, unattainable. He’s everything that I shouldn’t want, yet I do. So I’ll take what he’s willing to give me.

I lie back and I wait while his eyes rove over me again. “Bend your knees and put your feet on the bed.”

I do.

My skin is damp and dewy with desire, with the need for him to take me places I’ve never been before. I would almost beg for him to touch me as he watches. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gets to his feet and moves to stand at the foot of the bed, his eyes meeting mine from over my knees.

“Spread your legs,” he whispers. I move my feet apart. “More.” I let my knees fall open a little more. “Mmm, perfect. Now show me where you want me to touch you.”

A small part of me feels flustered and self-conscious, but if it will bring him to me, bring him into me faster, I’m willing to give him what he wants.

I close my eyes and imagine that Nash is touching me. I slide one hand down my stomach and over the short hair between my legs. I pause there, a moment of insecurity overwhelming me. My eyes pop open and I see Nash watching my hand. In my stillness, his gaze rises to meet mine. It’s flashing and fiery and, without a word, it urges me on.

Slowly, I move one finger down and push it inside me. Nash’s eyes drop to my hand again. I pull my finger out and massage my clitoris with it. I jerk against the contact. I’m so ready for him, if he doesn’t hurry, I’ll finish before we even get started.

Desperation spurs me on. My fingers move in a mindless rhythm that pleases my body as my other hand finds my tight nipple again. The stimulation coupled with his eyes on me is sensory overload. I moan, unable to help myself. I see the muscle in his jaw tic as he grits his teeth. That’s when I realize that, in playing his little game, the victor has become the victim. He’s torturing himself.

I grow bolder. I let my legs fall farther apart and I rub myself, my body writhing under my touch and his watchful stare. I slip another finger in alongside the first and I move them together, in and out.

Nash’s lips part the tiniest bit and I hear his breath huffing between them. He’s just as excited as I am. That knowledge sends an electric pang of desire zipping through my body to land right beneath my moving fingers.

With lightning speed, Nash moves forward and grabs my wrist, his fingers winding around it like bands of steel, stopping my movement. His eyes never leave mine as he tugs my fingers out of my body and raises my hand to his mouth. He rubs my fingertips back and forth across his bottom lip, leaving a streak of moisture there. I catch my breath when his tongue sneaks out to taste it. “God, you taste good,” he groans before he sucks my fingers into his mouth.

I feel the slick heat of his tongue rasping along my sensitive fingertips as he licks them. I feel the sensation all the way down to my core. I gasp in delicious surprise when I feel his teeth nip my fingertip. The muscles between my legs clench in wanton anticipation.

“That just makes me want more,” he whispers. “And something tells me you want me to take more.” As he speaks, he moves to put one knee on the bed, insinuating his hips between my legs. Still holding my wrist, I feel his free hand work its way down the inside of my thigh to the unbearable heat at my center.

He pushes one long finger inside me, stealing my breath. He moves it farther into me as he thrusts his hips forward. “Unzip my pants,” he commands gruffly, finally releasing my wrist. He moves another finger inside me, crooking them both as he pulls them out. “Right now.” My comprehension is slow, his words barely penetrating the sensual web that his fingers are weaving over me.

Bending slightly at my waist, I reach for his zipper. The button is already undone and I can feel his hardness straining against the backs of my fingers as I pull the little gold tongue down.

The material parts to reveal his long, thick shaft. Without even thinking, I reach inside and wrap my fingers around it—soft skin over warm steel. I hear the hiss of air through his teeth just before he pushes a third finger inside me. Hard and deep, he penetrates me as I squeeze his length.

“I don’t have a condom, but I’m clean. I assume you’re . . . protected?”

I can only manage a nod as my thumb slides over the moistened tip of him and he arches into my hand.

He groans. “You’re gonna come for me, come like you’ve never come before. Then I’m gonna lick you until you come again. With my tongue inside you.”

Removing his fingers from me, he widens his stance as he slides both hands under my hips and lifts them off the bed. Guiding his thick head to my entrance, he looks up to meet my eyes just before he pulls me roughly toward him, my body sliding wetly over his. With my legs wrapped around his waist and my back arched sharply off the bed, he plunges into me over and over again until I feel the dam break.