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“A little innocence never hurt anyone.” I latch onto his shirt, pulling him up so I can taste his lips again. “Good girls can turn bad, too.”
“No,” he breathes with a silent plea in his tone. “Your innocence is sexy. In fact, a fucking turn-on.”
I grin, touching his cheek softly. “Oh really?”
“Shhh, stop talking. I need to fuck you now.”
I’m falling for him.
Into this blissful moment as his hands wander across my body, each part he hasn’t touched is begging to be noticed.
The wall is sticky, and my dress gets caught against the rough edge. I don’t care. I want him—here and now.
His palms slide under my dress, against my thighs with a slow, burning ache. My body reacts to him, grinding against his hardness and dry-humping him between our clothes, which suddenly become a nuisance.
I fumble with his buttons, wanting to expose his chest and run my hands against his skin. Though the lighting is reduced, the desire in his eyes burns through me as I spread apart his shirt and admire the view. He’s
just like I imagined—ripped, muscles in all the right places, and so very manly.
There are several tattoos on his chest, but I can barely make out the images.
My hands move of their own accord, against his chest, circling his nipple as he moans softly into the air. I’ve never experienced this type of lust, the need to have my way with him like a fantasy has come alive.
The grip of his hands is tight against my ass. Small, yet forceful squeezes until he lifts me, and my legs wrap around his waist for support.
“You’re so goddamn sexy when you’re begging for it.”
I grab his belt buckle that begins to dig into me, unbuckling it quickly and unzipping his pants. Balancing against the wall, fumbling for his pants and losing myself in his ravenous kisses becomes exhausting.
“I’m not the one begging for it…” I pant, so out of breath, my throat’s dry, “… you are.”
Wesley laughs into my mouth while a grin forms on my tired face from this game we play.
“Is that so?”
I pull his hair, detaching his mouth from mine to give him a nod. The more we play this game, the more turned on I become. I feel him everywhere. I want him everywhere on me.
He rests his forehead against mine, breathing onto my face as we both take a moment to catch ourselves.
“I don’t think you’ve ever had a taste of something as Rich. Don’t think for a second that bad boy means you’ll be left unsatisfied… quite the contrary. I can guarantee you that afterward, baby… you’ll continue begging for more.”
My eyes lock onto his, desperate for him to enter me. As we take this moment to stare at each other, his reflection is precisely how I imagined he would be—wild, uncensored, and uncaring of what else is happening outside the world of us.
Keeping his gaze fixed on mine, he runs his hand along my chest, sliding into my dress and cupping my breast. I’m holding in a breath, stopping myself from finishing all because of his touch. When I think I’ve got myself under control, he narrows his grip into a pinch and squeezes my nipple.
The agony, and yet pleasure, spread through me, my back arching from this delightful pain.
“Are you ready?” he whispers into my ear as his tongue runs along my lobe.
“For you, yes. I’ve been waiting for too long.”
His hands wander down, and I hear the zipper of his pants. My eyes close, for how long I’m unsure, allowing myself to feel this moment. I sense him move my panties, his fingers brushing against my clit as my breathing becomes erratic.
What’s he doing to me? Liam never felt like this.
Okay, shit. This is not the time to think about Liam. This is the moment I need to think about Wesley. Stop getting lost in a sea of thoughts.
My panties are shifted completely aside, soaked from my arousal which turns Wesley on. He murmurs something about how wet I am, but I’m lost and can barely climb out of this abyss I’m falling into.
