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Shimming against his body I wait until he puts me down. My hands on his shoulders push his cut down his arms. Before it can hit the floor, I catch it and hang it over a chair. He watches me with curiosity, waiting on me to make the next move. It’s rare that a man gives me the lead in the bedroom, and I’m going to enjoy every second of this. I have a feeling it may not last long.
Slowly, I circle behind him, my hands on his body the entire time. I run them from his broad shoulders, down his muscled arms, until I reach the hem of his t-shirt. I take my time lifting it up and he raises his arms. But I reach a certain point where I can no longer lift, and a huff escapes me. Maybe I should stand on the bed?
“Need help?” I can hear the smile in his voice even if I can’t see his face.
“Just take it off, will you?”
He chuckles as he tosses his shirt to the floor.
I trace my hands over his back, taking in all the muscles, his dark skin drawing me in. There’s a scar running from his neck to his shoulder that I run my fingers over before kissing it lightly.
“Football injury,” he explains hoarsely.
I don’t say anything, just keep exploring the expanse of his body. His muscles ripple beneath my fingers and his breathing becomes heavy. When I reach the front of his body, I see that his pupils are blown out, drowning the honey color of his eyes, his jaw clenched with the effort it’s taking to remain still.
My gaze travels from his gorgeous face to his broad chest. Three small wounds cluster together below his right pectoral. I trace them with my tongue and his big body shudders.
“Bullet wounds,” he says hoarsely.
My heartbeat spikes at the idea of Beast being in any kind of danger but I don’t say anything. It isn’t my place and I’m terrified to ruin the mood.
Above his heart is a tattoo of a rose with the wordLydiain a cursive script. When I touch it, he moves for the first time, covering my hand with his.
“My mother.”
I don’t need any further explanation. I feel like that topic is for people who might be in a serious relationship and not just fucking for a single night. Nodding with a smile, I remove my hand from beneath his and travel lower to his belt buckle, but he stops me.
“My turn.”
Chapter Fifteen
More Than a Fantasy
Beast
This woman has featured in every fantasy I’ve had for the past few weeks. I mean, I’m even turning down the club ass. I have never been the type of man to turn down easy pussy, but Irene has got me so spun out over her that I just haven’t been interested.
That is not to say my dick hasn’t been active. No, that motherfucker springs to life just at the mere thought of this vixen before me. I’ve damn near rubbed myself raw. And now I have her in front of me, the woman that stalks my dreams, and I’m going to take full advantage of that.
Slowly, I lift her shirt above her head revealing the red lace bra she’s wearing. At the sight of her dark nipples barely hidden beneath the fancy fabric my dick nearly punches a hole through the front of my jeans. Need and desire ride me hard making it almost impossible to take it slow, but I force myself to calm down.
Running my fingers along the outside of the cup, teasing the swell of her breasts, I watch a shudder work its way through her body. I’m happy to see it’s not only me that’s affected by this situation.
“Turn around.”
My voice sounds like I’ve been chewing gravel. Although I should be grateful that my voice works at all.
She turns immediately at my command, and I feel my chest tighten. I wonder if she will be this submissive with everything or if she will push back at some point. Only time will tell. Taking the clasp of her bra in my hands I snap it open and let it hang there. Bending down I kiss her neck before nipping at her skin. Slowly, I tease the straps from her shoulders allowing her bra to fall to the floor.
Not once does she lift her hands to stop me or cover herself. Grabbing her hips I pull her toward me, her naked back flush with my chest. My hands cup her breasts, testing the weight of them. Callouses against silk. A moan escapes Irene as I gently knead the globes.
“I’ve been dreaming of these tits,” I say into her ear as I twist a nipple lightly.
“Oh God,” Irene mewls arching her back.
“I want to lick them, suck them, and leave my mark all over them,” I continue. “I want to fuck them and watch as I come all over them.”
Running my hand down her stomach I undo her jeans before slipping my hand inside. She isn’t wearing underwear and her pussy is waxed. A growl pushes forth from my chest as I run a finger down her slit and find her wet. That’s an understatement, she is soaked.
