Page 37 of Very Bad Things


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Releasing my swimsuit, he runs his hands over his mouth. I’ve never seen a man look at me the way he is; it’s carnal. He makes zero pretense about what’s on his mind and as brash as it is, it’s also exciting and refreshing.

“I need to go for a swim.” He stands suddenly, walking back inside, only to reemerge a few moments later in swim trunks.

Don’t stare. Act calm, nonchalant… play hard to get.

It’s no use, even hiding behind my sunglasses I can’t hide the fact that I’m staring. This man’s body commands attention. My legs are practically falling back open for him, begging for a repeat. Dark hair peppers his chest, arms, and legs. His thighs are defined, his abs and pecs distinctly outlined. He tosses his sunglasses on the chair next to me, walking to the edge and gracefully diving off to the water down below. I sit up, peering over the edge as he swims effortlessly away from the boat. I watch his arms and pecs flex as he lifts himself out of the water in one swift move. He disappears inside the yacht, finally emerging from a set of stairs as he walks back toward me.

He leans over me, water from his hair dripping onto me as he snakes his hand behind my neck and roughly pulls me toward him. His lips are on mine, kissing me. His tongue roughly demands entrance.

“Fuck swimming. Inside now. I need more.”

I don’t get the chance to respond before he’s pulling me to my feet and pushing me inside. He grabs my arm, pulling me behind him as he leads us down a flight of stairs toward an empty room. He pushes me against the door, both of his hands tangling in my hair as he kisses me hard and fast like he can’t get enough.

He spins me around, pushing me back on the bed and dropping to his knees in front of me. “Off,” he commands, tugging on my bottoms. He grabs my ankles, placing them over his shoulders as he grabs my waist and tugs me forward till his mouth is on me.

“Oh God.” My hand tangles in his hair, my other holding myself up as he wastes no time tasting me. He swirls his tongue, sliding it deep inside me. My toes curl. I’ve never had anyone fuck me with their tongue the way he is right now.

He teases me with his thumb on my clit, his tongue continuing to explore me as he brings me to the edge again and again.

“Please,” I beg, panting.

“I want you dripping before you come on my tongue.” He looks up at me, kissing me with long slow kisses as his fingers pump in and out of me. “I could taste you for hours. So sweet,” he moans before leaning in to drag his tongue over me again.

My eyes grow heavy as I feel the tingles start to move from my toes, taking over my body as I finally explode. The vibration of his moans against my clit gives me an aftershock as he licks me clean, his whiskers glistening with my release when he pulls back.

He stands, pulling me to my feet and spinning me around so that my back is to him. He wraps my bottoms around my wrist tightly before turning me back toward him. “On your knees.” He grunts as he tugs the front of his swim trunks down, his cock springing free right in my face. He grabs his shaft, pumping his fist over his length.

His hand slams against the wall overhead as he levels himself at my lips. “Open your mouth.” I obey and he places the tip at my lips before slowly sliding himself in a few inches, then back out. “Relax your jaw, let me in.” He pushes further to the back of my throat, my eyes watering and a gagging sound echoing through the room. He does it again and I pull back.

“Hey.” He reaches his hand down beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Relax your throat and jaw, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck your mouth and you’re going to take it. You understand?”

I nod.

“Good, now breathe through your nose because I’m not going to go easy on you and when I shoot my load down your throat, you’re going to swallow every last drop of me.” He runs his finger along my jaw as he slides himself into my mouth deeper. “Juuust like that.” He watches me as he pulls out, then slides himself back in. “Fuuuuuck.”

I’ve never been spoken to like this before. I’ve never had a man tell me he’s going tofuck my moutheither. It’s scary but exciting. A tingle starts to build in my lower belly as I relax. This time he doesn’t stop. He grips my hair tightly with one hand, the other bracing himself on the wall behind me as he thrusts his hips. His pace grows faster, his cock going deeper. I have to remind myself to breathe, not to panic.

“Oh yes, Miss Flowers, you suck cock just as good as I thought you would.” He looks down at me, his eyes dark, his chest heaving. “You’re such a filthy little slut on your knees for me, letting me use you. Letting me fuck your face like you’re nothing but a little toy for me.”

I can feel his rhythm growing frantic, his grip on my hair growing tighter, my scalp burning from the pain as he grunts one last time, stilling his movements as he comes in my mouth. I obey, swallowing him as he looks down at me, his breath coming out in jagged puffs.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you.” He says it almost to himself, like he didn’t mean to say it aloud. He tucks himself back into his shorts, reaching down to run his thumb gently over my chin before helping me back up to my feet and releasing my arms.

“Why don’t you go clean yourself up and get ready for dinner. We’ll be eating ashore tonight, with my family.”

He walks out of the room, leaving me standing there in nothing but my top. I slip my bottoms back on, making my way to my room to shower and get ready for dinner.

I slip on the white linen dress I bought when I was with Xana. It makes my freshly bronzed skin look even more sun-kissed. I lather on a generous amount of coconut lotion that has a shimmer to it. I let my hair air dry, the salty ocean breeze giving it a natural wave with ample body. My makeup is simple—just blush, mascara, and gloss. I step into my sandals, giving myself one last look before heading upstairs to the deck where Weston is already waiting.

His white linen shirt blows in the wind, his khakis slightly rolled at the ankles.

“I like your deck shoes.” I smile, looking down at his navy Sperrys.

“Notice I’m on a boat when I’m wearing them,” he says with smirk before ushering me toward the smaller boat waiting to take us to shore. He places his hand at the small of my back, holding my hand as he helps me into the boat. I expect him to drop my hand but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls me to sit next to him, interlacing his fingers with mine as we head toward the shore. When we dock, he holds my hand still, helping me out of the boat but the moment I'm steady, he drops my hand as we make our way to the restaurant at the resort.

“How was the pool?” I ask Daisy as we walk hand in hand through the resort. I’m trying not to gawk but this place is unreal.

“Fun! I played with Mason and Devon,” she says, referring to the Tallman’s grandchildren. I recognize their names as students at Crestwood but they’re not in my class.

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