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The absolute last thing in the world I needed was to go anywhere private with him.
Except there was one thing that was slightly worse than disappearing with him again. And that was my family finding out what I’d been up to, how and why I actually knew Bellamy.
They didn’t deserve that.
They’d been good to me.
And because I believed Bellamy was absolutely capable of being evil enough to say something to my aunt and uncle, I had no other choice but to follow him blindly away from the safety of numbers and into an abandoned part of the building where no one was going to come across us.
I was going to go ahead and tell myself that the little thrill that moved through my belly was fear. Even if I knew it was something completely different.
I swear the moment he closed the door to the linen storage room, I felt my sex clench hard in anticipation, like a part of me knew he was going to make a move, not talk like he’d claimed.
Then when he’d stalked me like a hungry wolf looking for his next meal, I found myself eagerly wishing to be spread open and devoured.
I was proud of my mouth for spewing out lie after lie to cover up the fact that my body was slowly catching fire thanks to his nearness, to the dark promise in his eyes.
But I’d clearly taken it too far.
I saw the intention in his eyes just a second before his lips crashed down on mine.
Hard.
Hungry.
Almost punishing.
For drugging him, for leaving him, for denying the chemistry between us. Who knew? All I knew was his mouth bruised into mine as his hand gripped the side of my neck tightly enough that I worried for a second about his fingertips leaving marks. But then the idea of him marking me made my belly turn liquid even as his hand slid back, slipped into the hair at the nape of my neck, wrapping it around his fist, and yanking back hard until my mouth opened on a gasp.
His tongue moved inside to claim mine as his other hand slipped down my side to start gathering up my long skirt until he could slip his hand under, pressing it against the swatch of fabric between my thighs. There was no denying my attraction to him when he felt how wet I already was for him.
His fingers worked me through the fabric until I was writhing and whimpering for more.
Abandoned was any hope of pretending that I didn’t want him, want this.
I was sure my post-orgasm brain was going to be pissed with me, but that was a problem for future-me. The present-me was too focused on how Bellamy’s hand slipped into my panties and his middle and forefingers started rolling up the sides of my clit, giving hints of delicious contact, but not nearly as much as I needed right then.
A pathetic, needy whimper escaped me, a sound that made Bellamy’s lips rip from mine as he went suddenly down on his knees in front of me, disappearing under my skirt. Somehow, not being able to see him turned me on all the more as he yanked my panties to the side and closed his lips around my throbbing clit.
He didn’t tease me like he had with his fingers.
His lips pulsed around my clit until my needy whimpers became desperate moans.
Even then, though, he didn’t stop. He didn’t give my orgasm even a second to ebb, he just kept sucking until the white-hot pulse of pleasure shot through me, stealing my breath, leaving me gasping instead of crying out.
My legs shook so hard I was worried they might not hold me.
But then there was Bellamy, standing before me again, grabbing me, turning me, then sliding my straps down my shoulders.
It was right then that Bellamy let out a little laugh/snort hybrid. “These things,” he said, his finger tracing the edge of my stick-on bra. Yes, stick-on. Since the strappy back of my gown made even strapless bras impossible, and I wasn’t comfortable going without a bra to a fancy fundraiser event. So I’d taken the damn plastic cutlet things with their sticky inside, strapped them to my tits, then yanked them together and secured the clasp.
I’d only just been able to forget that I was wearing the damn thing. Now I was never going to get comfortable with it again.
“Leave it,” I demanded, voice soft as my head fell back on his shoulder. My hips ground back into his straining cock, desperately needing him inside me again.
“Afraid I can’t do that, love,” Bellamy said as his hand moved to the clasp, updating them.
And then this man peeled the damn bra off of me.
It should have been horrifying, having a man take off your glued-on bra.
But I felt a shiver of need coursing through me as the cool air met my previously suffocated boobs, my nipples pebbling to points immediately, and it was impossible to tell if it was from the desire, or the cool air, or both.
