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“Brat,” he grumbled against my lip before biting it punishingly.
I wrapped my legs around his torso and grabbed a fistful of his hair as I kissed him back. “You like it,” I told him.
“I fucking love it.”
This shouldn't have been nearly as much fun as it was. I'd never had this much play incorporated into sex before, and I was only now realizing how much I'd been missing out.
Although, if I were being completely honest with myself, I couldn't imagine having this much fun with any of the other guys I'd hooked up with.
Adrien used his grip on my hair to pull my head back, then his lips, teeth, and tongue were on my neck. I came utterly undone. My filter caught fire, logic and reason left the building, and I was completely lost in Adrien's touch, his scent, and the overwhelming amount of sensations coursing through my body.
I moaned his name, and it pushed everything over the edge. The fire became an all-encompassing inferno. His grip on me tightened, his hips pushing forward, working his steel length against my oversensitive clit. I trembled, panting like I’d been forced to hold my breath for the last hour.
I wanted to yank his sweatpants down and have him thrust into me right here, just like this.
“I want you inside me,” I pleaded softly against his ear. And then, because I'd really lost it, I said, “I'm on the pill. Tested recently. Haven’t been with anyone since. If... you want.”
He was shaking, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to hurt. He nipped at my jaw, my cheek, my ear. “Same. Tested. You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He ground his hips into mine, and I stuffed my face into his shoulder when the whimper escaped. I could feel his heartbeat slamming into my chest and it was fucking intoxicating.
“Do you still hate me?” he rasped.
“What?” Where had that come from?
“Do you hate me?”
I frowned. “Is now really the time to talk about this?”
“Ria.” He pulled his head back to look at me, releasing my hair so he could tilt my chin to meet his gaze. “Do you hate me?”
I should have veered. But instead, I whispered, “Yes.”
His face split into a devastatingly handsome grin when my nose inevitably flared. I wanted to kiss his dimples but that seemed just a little too affectionate for my brand, so I resisted the temptation.
“Do you have feelings for me, Sanchez?”
My own smile was forming, even though I kept telling it not to. “Absolutely not, Cloutier.”
“Do I give you butterflies?”
“No,” I breathed, unable to summon my full voice because of the overwhelming amount of non-butterflies fluttering through my stomach, chest, soul.
His grin widened. “We really need to do something about all this lying.”
“No, what we need to do is stop talking. It's—”
I cut off with a gasp when he hoisted me over his shoulder in one smooth move, like I was a massive sack of feathers.
“Adrien!” It was embarrassing, how much giggling I'd been doing around him lately.
My back bounced off the mattress when he dropped me, and before I could yank his body down on top of mine, he... rolled me? Three times.
“What the hell?” I asked, looking down at the microfleece blanket my body was now trapped in. And then it clicked. The fucker had wrapped me in a blanket fucking burrito!
“Adrien!” I exclaimed, positively appalled by his unacceptable behavior.
