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How does one go from ‘despicable witch’ to ‘my love’ in the span of less than 24 hours?
I close my eyes in utter mortification. Yesterday I was calling him all kinds of unflattering, polysyllabic adjectives, and now I'm moaning for him?
Getting wet for him even?
What the fuck!
I try to get control over my breathing and fail. The bastard is making it freaking impossible with his maddening touch and the impressive erection pocking and pressing rather insistently into my back.
I feel his burning lips travel up and down my neck, each and every kiss turning me on more and more, the rasp of his beard sending tremors up and down my spine.
I’m so aroused that I can't see straight.
Why the hell am I not stopping him?
I don’t want him! I never did! I never will!
“God, Lynn, you are so soft… so lovely. I will never get enough of you,” he murmurs on my collarbone, his teeth lightly nipping me there.
The harmless nibble seems to be connected to the most traitorous part of my body because as soon as his teeth graze my skin, I find myself arching back against his hard cock, wantonly gasping and moaning for more, my hand pressing his fingers more tightly around my breast.
I hear him chuckle delightfully at my nape. “Patience, doll. We’ll get to that in a minute,” he says, his thumb and forefinger plucking my nipple, his other hand sliding lower.
Chuckle delightfully?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The thing I loathe the most about Devon Welton —and trust me, the things I hate about him are so many I’ve lost count— is his haughty, cocky laugh always accompanied by that unnerving twinkle in his eyes, and yet now the asshole gets me even more sopping wet with a single chuckle, my inner core clenching on an emptiness I can't stand.
I gather my breath to utter a retort when all the air leaves my lungs as his dexterous fingers make contact with my core, immediately zeroing onto my aroused clit, his touch gentle but satisfying.
A joyful groan fills the room, and I realize with astonishment that it came from me.
“Fuck, I love your body, baby,” he grunts on my neck before suckling me there, his teeth scraping gently.
My eyes almost cross in pleasure, and more wet heat pools between my thighs. How can something so simple feeloh-so-good?
My body has decided to stop listening to my brain at all —or maybe my brain is just pretending not to participate, like an unruly child who only feigns sleep to sneak a peek of a movie she is not supposed to be watching.
I rock against the hand at my core, feeling the tension building inside of me like a mounting wave. My mouth opens in another moan. “Oh, please… please, Devon!”
I’m begging!
I’m fucking begging for my release!
I never do that. Ever.
He slips a finger inside of me and starts a leisured rhythm, stroking in and out, his hips driving against my bottom, giving him the tempo, his sizzling hardness jerking and weeping at my back.
Just as I feel my body nearing an orgasm, he takes his hand away, growling. "No, baby. Not like this. I want to be inside of you when…" he stops talking and pushes one of my legs forward. I feel one of his arms pressing on the bed next to my stomach, and before I know what's happening, he is quickly ramming into me. The unexpected feeling of fullness is almost too much to bear.
I shut my eyes tightly against the rush of pleasure tinged with more than a hint of pain, trying to breathe through his penetration.
He drops another kiss, this time on my jaw. "Sorry, my love… it's just that I need you so much! But you can take me. I know you can. You'll get used to it. I promise... and you'll love it. Just like you did last night."
Holy freaking shit!
I’ll get used to it?
