Page 46 of Kind of Famous
“You are insanely hot, Shane.”
Seriously, if he’d been drumming shirtless all this time, Noah would have been chasing after his castoffs. Who knew? How was this all mine?
I threw my leg over his waist, savoring the feel of his hands as they slipped around my back.
“Layla, you are—” he took a sharp breath “—I can’t think of words that haven’t been ruined. Beautiful seems so inadequate.”
I froze in place. I’d had men tell me I was beautiful. That was never an issue. I’d never actually felt it though.
Until now.
My body thrummed with pulsating energy, all of it coalescing like nuclear fission onto an ever-increasing heat at my center. I needed him, and if I didn’t have him, I would detonate.
I ground against him, dry fucking him like he was my own personal sex toy.
“You’re killing me here,” he grunted.
Unable to contain the combustion, I reached down and unsnapped his jeans. Leaning back a bit, I slowly opened the zipper and wiggled the denim down until his erection pressed up through the fabric of his boxers. I couldn’t stand the suspense and tore down the boxers, too.
The exact word I thought at that moment wasglorious. He was smooth and cut, long and thick. And so damn hard.
I couldn’t resist touching him. His eyes closed, but his lips fell open as he made guttural sounds. I moved back further so I could drag my tongue across the shaft and wrap my lips around the head. His back arched, and I loved knowing that I was bringing him pleasure that wracked his entire body. His fists bunched up the sheets on either side of his hips.
With a last kiss on the tip, I sat up and worked his pants the rest of the way off, laughing because he still had on his shoes.
I slipped my own shoes off and let him undress me the rest of the way.
“One second.” He rolled over and opened a side table drawer, which brought on uninvited thoughts about who might have shared this bed before.
“Shit.” He sat up and began digging around, shoving aside envelopes and pens. “Dammit.”
He jumped up. “Be right back.”
He walked his sexy ass into the bathroom where I heard more violent rummaging. Finally, he emerged victorious and set the condom on the side table. The second he hit the mattress, I grabbed his shoulders and drove my lips into his.
“Whoa.” He lost his balance and knocked me sideways. He chuckled at the mishap, but I touched his extended cock, and he lost all his mirth.
He licked his lips, then ran a hand down my hip and up my inner thigh. As if to mirror my thumb stroking his shaft, he slid one finger across my need, intensifying the friction with every stroke.
Unable to bear it any longer, I fell back and pulled him down with me. “Shane,” I begged.
He grabbed the condom, rolled it on, and returned to kissing me. He whispered, “I can’t get close enough to you.”
With one beefy arm planted on the bed, he positioned himself to enter me. I tilted up, throbbing to the point of pain. He hesitated until I groaned, “Yes, Shane.”
As reverently as he’d kissed me, as slowly as he’d worshiped me, he drove in, inch by incredible inch, until I felt him deep inside me. All thought fled when he dragged himself back out and plunged in again, faster, asking, “Does it feel good, Layla?”
“So good.” It came out on a sigh. “You?”
“Exquisite.”
He worked up to a steady rhythm that built pleasure on pleasure, and then he leaned down to suck on my lips, slowing his pace, and caressing me as if I meant more to him than his ultimate orgasm. I’d learned to take care of my own needs during sex, so his focus on me surprised me, delighted me really, and invited me to lavish attention on him, too.
My hands roamed across his strong triceps and clutched his broad shoulders. My fingernails raked his back, and he bent down to bite my lip. All the while, he moved in and out of me, with increasing urgency, but with admirable control. He watched me and when I closed my eyes and moaned, he said, “Is it good?”
While I loved how careful he was to make this about me, what I needed was for him to let go and really fuck me, so I wrapped my foot around his back and gave him a literal kick of encouragement. He got the message and sped up his pace, drilling deep, hitting me again and again in the spot that had me nearly crying from the overwhelming explosion of raw pleasure.
“There,” I cried. “Yes.” I couldn’t say more for fear of losing my already tenuous grip on the relentless journey to outer space.
