Page 102 of Badd Love
Her scream cut off with a ragged shudder and her heels scrabbled at the floor, and she teetered precariously on the edge of the tub, arched backward as she writhed through her orgasm with silent intensity, mouth open in a soundless scream as I began pumping my finger faster and faster inside her, thrashing her clit with my mouth until she sucked in a shaking breath and went paralyzed, sliding off the tub, now only held up by her grip on the rim. She found purchase just in time, re-seating herself on the edge, panting, eyes delirious and unfocused as the last paroxysms of climax left her whimpering and staring at me in stunned ecstasy.
"Jesus, Dane," she breathed.
I very carefully removed my finger, nuzzling her cheek with mine. "Get in."Her lips touched my ear. "Yes, Dane."
"You like being my good girl, don't you?"
Her voice was tiny. "Yes, Dane."
She slid into the tub and sank down until she was submerged to the chin, gazing at me, watching me as I washed my hands thoroughly.
I turned from the sink toward the tub, the tip of my cock peeking up over the waistband of my underwear. With just her eyes and nose above the water, now, she locked her eyes on me, aslow grin spreading across her mouth, reaching her eyes, turning her gaze seductive and hungry as I stood outside the tub.
She lifted her face free of the water. "My turn."
I stood where I was. "As you wish."
She dropped her mouth below the waterline again, but her hand left the water, rested on the edge of the tub, and then reached, dripping, for my underwear.
CHAPTER 15
Lindsey
Fuck, I was so mixed up I didn't know if I was coming or going, emotionally. Dane was wreaking havoc on me, emotionally, mentally, and physically. One second, he was getting me all worked up emotionally, and then he made me come and had me saying "Yes, Dane," like some sort of…I don't know what.
Fuck, it was hot, though. I've never been that girl. I've never evenconsideredbeing that girl. Because I mean, what man would I ever trust enough to put that kind of faith in him?
This man, apparently.
Dane Badd.
He stood outside the tub in his tight black boxer briefs, the outline of his cock bulging and straining against the fabric, a hint of the pink tip sticking up over top of the elastic. My heart was pounding wildly from the exertion of orgasm, and I couldn't believe I'd not onlylethim put his finger in my asshole, but I'dbeggedhim to. My nipples ached, standing hard and turgid and sensitive in the hot water, and my pussy was slick and hot and aching emptily. Yet, despite my physical, sexual arousal, I was still an emotional mess. He'd said a lot, and it all rattled around in me like marbles at the bottom of an empty coffee tin.
I use sex to avoid my feelings? Okay, first of all, rude.
Second, I do not.
Do I?
I…
Fuck.
I totally did.
A riptide of past occurrences zipped through me like a movie montage of Lindsey being a thirsty, emotionally-avoidant slut: guy after guy that I went on a few dates with, got to know a little, slept with, and then as soon as I sussed out that he was starting to actually get near my spiky walls of emotional defense, I'd hop on his cock and distract him from investigating those feelings any further.
And then I'd bolt.
Dump him and run—usually to Mom and Pop Rigby's for emotional support and repair.
Yeah, that was a pattern.
So was the fact that I avoided facing my emotions. I stuck with being funny or horny or annoying instead of letting the fear or pain through the walls.
He sawme; hesawme.
It was fucking terrifying.
