Page 68 of Bright Midnight


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She bites her lip and suddenly I don’t give a fuck about cider or pizza or anything else.

All I care about is her.

Being with her as much as I can, while I can.

I get to my feet and reach for her hand. “Come here,” I say gruffly.

Then I lead her across the bar, not caring if anyone is watching us go to the restrooms together.

Once inside the bathroom, I lock the door, making sure it’s secure, and then I attack Shay, fire burning through my veins until my skin feels too hot and there’s only one way to get relief.

My hands grab hold of her sweet face, fingers digging into her jaw, while I move with urgency, driving her backward toward the tiled wall until she’s pressed up against it. My mouth covers her mouth, lips ravenous, tongue thrusting against hers. Fucking her good. She whimpers into my mouth and I feel the vibrations shoot down my spine, straight to my cock, which is already rock hard.

It whips me up until I’m something wild, savage, feverish, my dick is growing impossibly stiff and trying to break through the fly of my jeans, begging for release, for relief. I reach down and pull up the hem of her pretty little dress until it’s bunched at her hips then I slide my hands under her ass and lift her up so that her legs are wrapped around me, holding me tight.

“Anders,” she says through a throaty gasp, and I can’t help but grin at her, remembering how she used to be so game for anything, including fucking in a public pool. She can protest all she wants, but I know she’s still that same adventurous girl.

I also know that I can’t keep my fucking hands off of her even if I tried.

Suddenly, I spin her around and carefully place her on the edge of the sink, testing its weight for a moment, pulling away from her eager mouth.

“What are you…?” she begins, her lips wet and wanting, but from the devious look I’m giving her, her question is quickly answered.

I place my palms at her thighs, spreading them in front of me while she reaches forward with one hand and holding my shoulder to keep from falling, while the other hand braces against the sink.

“Fuck me,” I growl. She’s not wearing any underwear at all. It’s all her, open and pink and bare for me to drink in, in every way I can.

I give her a quick, heated glance. “As if you didn’t plan for this,” I say gruffly. “You’re such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

She grins at me, biting her lip again. “Good or bad, I’m whichever way you want me.”

And I’m a goner.

I crouch down and immediately bury my face between her legs, licking up and down her soft crease, tasting every single inch of her. She’s so fucking wet already, I’m practically drowning in her honey. My sweet, sweet sparrow.

“Oh fuck, Anders,” she cries out, legs spread wider for me while she reaches down and grabs my hair, making a fist, yanking at my head in bursts of wonderful pain. There’s nothing better than this, devouring her like a man craving oxygen, fucking her harder with my tongue, tasting her, feeling her clit throb beneath my lips, until I’m just a hair trigger away from coming myself.

Shit. Slow down, Anders.

Then her body tenses and she’s coming in my mouth and I don’t let up the pressure, don’t hold back my need to ravage her inside and out.

“Oh god, oh god,” she cries out, her voice choking, and I’m smiling against her slick skin, loving the sound of her, the way she calls out for me, as if I’m her god. Fuck, that’s all I want.

I straighten up, keeping her legs spread even as her head rolls to the side, her mouth open, panting, her body still quaking from her orgasm. I swiftly unzip my jeans and take my cock out, hot, tight and rigid in my hand. It’s nearly painful, this need I have for her, a need I can’t deny myself any longer.

While she’s still limp, trying to catch her breath, I wrap my hand around her waist, holding her in place, and tighten my grip around my cock, pressing it up against her, the sound wet, slick. I hiss softly, the anticipation building, then I push myself inside her with one hard, eager thrust, holding her steady against me.

She gasps loudly, her hands digging into my shirt, holding tight, and I’m letting out a low, animalistic groan as I drive myself inside of her, to the hilt, so we’re as close as fucking possible.

I pull back an inch and stare into her eyes, lost in their warmth, their desire for me, a look that I’ll never get tired of seeing. Like she sees me, all of me, for who I really am, even the parts of me I’ve never shown her. The parts I’m too afraid of.

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