Page 49 of (Not) The One
‘Please don’t ask me to explain.’ She shakes her head like a thoroughbred shaking off flies. ‘I just want to forget my life for tonight. I want you to make me.’
‘Make you?’ My brow pinches, and as I tighten my arms across my chest, her gaze falls to my bicep, shortly followed by her trailing fingertips. ‘I think you might need to explain that to me.’ Far be it from me to question anyone’s kink, but this kind of fantasy is one that needs prior discussion and concrete boundaries.
‘Make me feel like someone else. Someone whose life doesn’t feel like it’s unravelling at the seams.’ Her eyes suddenly fill with tears, but I sense she wouldn’t thank me for taking her in my arms. She’s lost and needs a distraction. A way to forget whatever is going on in her life right now.
And she wants me to give it to her.
I let my gaze travel over her in such a way she inhales a sharp breath. Knowing I can affect her so without a single touch? It’s a heady kind of power, one I challenge any man to ignore.
‘Take off your underwear.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. Take them off. I’m not taking you to bed, sweet girl.’ At least, not yet.
The last time, it was her skirt. This time, I’ll ask for something a little more. Push her a little more. Unbalance her. Her hands slip under the hem of her dress, thumbs hooking into the sides before she slides the tiny garment down. Pale blue lace, not cartoon adorned cotton, falls to the floor, and as she steps from the pool, she rests her hand on my forearm.
‘Give them to me.’ She bends, picking them up from the floor before handing them over, the spark of anticipation apparent as our fingers touch. ‘You know what I’m wondering? I’m wondering if your bra matches. And if it does, who you intended to fuck tonight.’
‘Sometimes a girl likes to wear matching underwear,’ she replies, her head held high.
‘So you didn’t go out tonight with the intention of fucking someone?’
‘I was working,’ she answers softly. ‘Besides, speed doesn’t do it for me.’
I bark out a laugh.
‘Also, you never know when that ambulance might get called.’
‘Or when you’ll get stuck in a dog door?’ Her smile freezes, her eyes darkening as I twirl the blue lace around my index finger, then bring the fabric to my nose. ‘You’re fucking intoxicating.’
Stuffing her underwear in my pocket, I pull her to my chest, the change of pace catching her off guard as I press her against the wall, my lips capturing hers in a slow, teasing kiss.
‘This okay?’ I ask as I lift her hands, pressing them against the wall. She nods, her inhalation jagged as my fingers dip under her hem, trailing up the inside of her thigh. Her tension unfurls in a long sigh as I slide them along her bare pussy.
‘Open for me, Miranda,’ I whisper, teasing her still. As she parts her legs, I slide two fingers deep inside.She’s so ready for this.She jolts at the sudden invasion, her gaze hooded and dark. ‘You’re so wet for me, sweetheart. I’ve barely touched you, and you’re making such a mess of my fingers.’ The evidence in my touch and the sounds as I work my fingers deeper, twisting my hand at the wrist.
‘Oh, God,’ she whimpers as I brush that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside, my thumb alternately petting the soft rise of her clit. ‘You shouldn’t say such things.’
‘Why, when you know you like it.’ My tone is a touch cruel. ‘Do you know how you taste?’ She thrashes against the wall as I slip my fingers from inside, painting a wet stripe against her lips. ‘Like heaven,’ I whisper, following the motion with my mouth in a kiss. ‘But you already knew that, didn’t you? You know your own taste.’ As an encore, I push those wet fingers between her luscious lips. ‘Suck on them, sweetheart. Get them nice and wet.’ So they leave a tantalising cool trail as I slip them between her legs once again.
‘You’re so sweet, so rosy and pink. I want to lick every part of you from head to toe.’ Between my promises, I ghost my lips over hers. ‘I’ll drink you all in, every drop of you. Swallow an ocean of you and come back for more.’
‘Oh, God, please.’
‘I thought we had this conversation. God won’t be responsible for your trip to heaven tonight.’
I kiss her then, my fingers deep, my thumb pressed against her clit. It’s a kiss of such heat and need, a kiss of tongues and teeth. A kiss of ownership, the intensity all her doing as her insides flutter and clench around those digits. But, like a bastard, as her orgasm begins to climb, I pull my fingers from between her legs.
‘That’s—that was evil,’ she pants. Her brow is creased, her hands still above her head.
‘But it’ll be worth it in the end.’ My fingers glisten in the light as I tug on the concealed zipper of her dress. ‘My God, you are beautiful.’ I feel her smile more than see it as I kiss the corner of her mouth.
‘And you’re a sweet talker,’ she whispers as I press my lips to the skin where her neck and shoulder meets. Her breath hitches as I flick my tongue across that elegant arc, her exhalation a beautiful, faltering thing.
‘A man either becomes a poet or an idiot when he basks in the light of a beautiful woman.’ I don’t give her time to respond as I turn her in my arms and lift her dress over her head. It scarcely has time to drop to the floor before I’m loosening her bra and placing wet, sucking kisses along her spine.
And the scrape of teeth on the way back again.
