Page 62 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“Fuck yes, I’m being serious. I told you, I don’t share.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about Jonathan. Our relationship is completely platonic.” She lifts her hand and strokes a stray curl floating over my forehead. “Why would I want anyone else, anyway? You’re too much man for me to handle.”
“That better be a good thing,” I growl into her ear.
She grips my cock and starts stroking me, making me hard as hell in seconds. “It’s an extremely good thing.”
Chapter Fifteen
**PAISLEY**
Reese King is jealous over me? How is that even possible?
World’s sexiest man, Olympic swimmer, and underwear model, jealous over me. Jealous over my relationship with Jonathan. Now that’s laughable.
Is Jonathan a ruggedly handsome man? Of course. And does he call me sweetheart and make me dinner? Naturally. And have I seen his penis almost every single day? Yes, but not by demand. But is there any kind of romantic vibe between us? None whatsoever. Not even the slightest inkling.
Back in college we might have had a fling, but we quickly worked out we were better as friends than being romantically involved. Ever since then, he’s been the best friend a girl could ask for.
“Do you see what you do to me, Paisley?”
Reese breathes heavily against me, his dick hard and ready. I’ve been with a few men in my time, but they are nothing compared to Reese, not even close.
This man makes me tingle from my toes to the top of my head with just his gruff voice. He sends shivers up and down my spine with one deep glance from his hazel eyes. He makes me throb uncontrollably with one single lick of his lips. Everything about him exudes sex and I get to call him mine . . . secretly.
I try not to think about that factor. I know what you’re thinking.Paisley, relationships are never good when they’re built on a foundation of lies.But this is different; there are no lies between Reese and me, just lies to the people who surround us. That’s not bad, right?
“I want to fuck you so hard against this wall,” he mumbles along my neck.
Nope, lies to people around us are completely fine, especially when I have this man mauling me against my wall, naked in all his glory, his length prodding against my leg, and his lips cascading down my body. I don’t see anything wrong with this situation.
“Then do it.”
A couple things I learned last night: Reese likes to talk dirty, which is a major turn on. He is also very demanding in the bedroom. He allows me some control, but when he’s about to snap, he takes over, driving himself so deep inside me I feel like I can’t get any fuller. He also likes to cuddle, like fully envelop me in his muscular arms kind of cuddle. I was barely able to extract myself from his steel-like arms this morning before Jonathan came barging through my door like he always does. And apparently, to my delight this morning, I found out he is insanely jealous.
I know, how animalistic and alpha of him. For some it can be a turn off and I get it. Some alpha men can be absolute control freaks that have the ability to turn into giant turd nuggets. But for some reason, I love the way Reese is possessive of me. It makes me feel wanted, cherished, a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time, thanks to my mommy and daddy problems. Got to love parents and their ability to give their children inferiority complexes.
In the midst of Reese taking my tank top off, exposing my breasts, he asks, “Are you really going to have dinner with Jonathan?”
His fingers find my piercing, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to my core. I can feel my arousal spike, and all I want to do is feel him inside me once again.Nothave a conversation about Jonathan.
“Yeah, why?” I respond, puffing my chest out farther for him to touch.
I’m going to be honest. I’ve never been the type of girl to willingly thrust my breasts at a man, but Reese has magic fingers; it’s like he was born to play with my nipples, not swim laps in a pool.
“What if I don’t want you to?” He captures one of my nipples in his mouth, distracting me from his question.
Even though his mouth is working wonders, I’m able to register what he says, and shock alert, I don’t like it.
“Well then, too bad. You can’t tell me what to do, Reese.”
Lightly biting down on my nipple, he looks up at me, an evil glint in his eyes. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” I breathe heavily, not sure if I’m answering his question or if I’m encouraging him to keep doing what he’s doing. Either way, my answer works. “You might have amazing man muscles and a glorious cock, but you still can’t tell me what to do.”
“What if I asked you politely to have dinner with me instead?”
My heart hammers in my chest as I cup the back of his head. His eyes . . . the lust I see is intoxicating.
