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“Help it?” Chase asks, his hand gripping his erection over his jeans. “I bet you’ve got the sweetest pussy.”
Something much stronger than shame and embarrassment washes over me, and I feel his words right at the center of me. It does nothing to help the situation we’re talking about. If anything, I know without looking down that it’s making things worse.
“This would be better if you got naked, too,” I whisper, feeling slightly empowered by the way he smiles as his eyes drink me up.
From what happened in the SUV outside of the bar, I figured we’d come together like a summer thunderstorm, quick, violent, and over as quickly as it began. But when he takes a step back, pulling his t-shirt over his head, keeping his eyes locked on me, I realize my mistake.
We agreed this could only happen once, and instead of getting it over with quickly, it seems Chase has different plans in mind.
He pulls his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, and I’m glad his eyes are lower than my face when he pulls out a small strip of condoms from it, tossing them near the pillows on the bed. Disappointment at his preparedness settles inside of me like a rock. I mean, on one hand, I’m glad he’s prepared because I’m not, and I would never hook up with him without protection, but maybe he had this planned before he even left the house or, at the very minimum, he stopped by the store on the way to the bar.
Was I his target all along or could I be anyone to him right now?
Despite that war starting to wage inside of me, the one that screams this is a bad idea, I groan when he unzips his jeans, the heavy length of him no longer restricted by the denim.
I might have a hard time distinguishing between my emotions tomorrow, but the confusion has no place in this room right now.
“This is what you do to me,” he says, stroking himself. “Every damn day, Madison. Do you know how hard it is for me to control myself around you?”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry, my ability to form coherent thoughts quickly dissipating.
“It’s been so hard keeping my hands to myself,” he continues, and I nod because it’s been rather difficult for me too. “That ends tonight. Get on the bed.”
I could cry out in relief when I do what he requests, my back meeting the coolness of the comforter when I lie down.
“Nope,” he snaps when I cross my legs. “Spread them.”
I close my eyes as I do what he asks, but instead of feeling him spread himself out on me, I’m met with the warmth of his mouth over my panties.
“Chase!” I screech, my hands going to his hair.
He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t stop what he’s doing, and even with the fabric between that intimate part of me and his mouth, it still feels otherworldly.
Surprise hits me like a truck and he clamps his teeth down on my clit. It isn’t hard, and I’m not feeling an ounce of pain, but no one’s ever done that to me before. It’s different and electric, and makes me reach for his hair and arch my back off the bed at the same time.
“I swear, Madison,” he growls, his fingers pulling the edge of my panties to the side.
I thought there’d be no difference because of how soaked the fabric was, but God Almighty, I’ve never felt anything better than the way he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks.
My body begins to shake, but seconds before I explode, he pulls back, swiping his tongue right up the middle of me.
We’re only a handful of minutes in, and I’m already panting like I’ve run a marathon without a single sip of water.
The second his fingers tangle in mine by my hip, I shove away all thoughts of what tomorrow will bring. None of it matters. The only thing that exists right now is the two of us and this bed.
He sits up a little, taking our combined hands and pressing my fingers to the slickness he’s solely responsible for.
“Keep it warm,” he whispers, the request filthy.
I shake my head, telling him I can’t, but he moves his fingers over mine, pressing into me, and it forces my jaw to unhinge with just how good it feels.
“That’s it,” he praises as he climbs off the bed.
I lick at my dry lips, my fingers slowing over my own body. I can’t seem to be capable of much more than following him with my eyes as he leans over and pulls his boots free, his jeans sliding off right after.
His body is the thing that I have no doubt keeps women up at night. The muscles along his abdomen ripple as he kicks away his clothing, his eyes locked on my hands.
When I move my fingers the way he wants me to, I’m rewarded with him running his fingers over his erection, and suddenly I realize the appeal.
