Page 161 of The Shot You Missed
Stepping out of my boxers, I stand before her naked, letting her see exactly what she does to me. What she’s always done to me.
It’s a struggle to hold back a chuckle when her pretty hazel eyes drop to my very hard dick. She licks her lips, and the fucker gives a little jump. “Baby, if you keep licking your lips like that, I’m going to put something in them.”
Her gaze flies up to meet mine, and the flames dancing there threaten to burn me alive in the best way. “You know what? I think that’s a great idea.”
I curse when she drops to her knees, right there in the kitchen. We haven’t even made it up to the bedroom. “Baby, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” she rasps, crawling on hands and knees as she closes the distance between us. It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m going to have to try real hard not to blow my load the moment she wraps those pretty lips around me.
Her fingers dig into my thighs as she goes up on her knees, then wraps one hand around my dick. The gentle squeeze she gives me earns a moan. Her hand is warm and soft, and she knows exactly how much pressure to apply when she gives me another squeeze before moving her palm up and down the length of my cock.
“Fuck, Rosebud. You’re so perfect. You drive me wild. I don’t—” My words cut off with a garbled groan when she leans inand swirls her tongue around the head of my dick, lapping up the bead of pre-cum that pools at the tip. Reflexively, one of my hands goes to the back of her head. Silky strands slip between my fingers as I run them through her hair before grasping it gently at the scalp.
The moan Indie rewards me with only makes me harder.
She’s a vision like this. Glassy eyes wide as she looks up at me, her mouth full of my cock, lips stretched wide over me. Indie has always had moments where she wears her insecurities and wounds like armor. Somehow both vulnerable yet impenetrable.
But not right now.
The Indie before me is a version I want to see more of. Confident, powerful, and uninhibited, she takes what she wants from me unapologetically.
When she swirls her tongue around my length and draws me deeper into her hot, wet mouth, I throw my head back and moan. Then I do it again when she digs her fingers into my ass, urging me to push deeper.
“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna come if you keep that up, and I want to come in that pretty pussy.” Using a careful grip on her hair, I pull my hips back. With swollen lips, hooded eyes, flushed cheeks, she’s sex personified.
“Come on.” After I help Indie to her feet, I bend over and scoop her up in my arms bridal style. “As hot as it would be to bend you over the counter and fuck you there, tonight, we’re making love.”
Indie lets out a squeak when her feet leave the ground, and she throws her arms around my neck. “Sebastian! Put me down. I’m too heavy.”
I stop walking. Looking down at the love of my life, I level her with a stern expression. “That’s the last time I ever want to hear you say that, got it?”
It’s a struggle to keep the frustration from my voice because I know she’ll take it the wrong way. I’m not frustrated withher;I’m frustrated with a culture and a society that’s made her feel like she’stoo much. Too heavy, too average, too opinionated, toowhatever. I can’t undo all of that messaging. I wish I could. But I can make sure she knows exactly how I see her. So with as much softness as I can muster, I stare into Indie’s eyes and will her to really hear me, this time.
“You are not too heavy. You’re perfect.” I arch an eyebrow when she starts to protest, and silence her with a quick, hard kiss. “I could do this all day, baby. You’d better get used to this. I think I’m going to carry you around whenever I can. Love the feel of you in my arms.”
“Bash,” she murmurs, looking up at me through the fringe of her lashes with pink cheeks.
“Indie.”
When it’s clear I won’t put her down and I’m not going to change my mind, she lets out a cute little sigh and buries her face in the crook of my neck. “Fine. You’re a big, strong man, and if you want to carry me around, you can.” She looks back up at me and narrows her eyes. “Inprivate.”
Chuckling, I head for the stairs. I won’t make a promise I have no intention of keeping.
I’m painfully hard by the time I get us to the bedroom. We kiss feverishly, Indie’s hands charting paths across my skin, leaving heat in their wake. I need her more than I’ve ever needed anyone or anything.
As soon as her back hits the mattress, my fingers go to her pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.”
“I’ve been wet since you knocked Ryland out,” she says, humor and heat in her eyes and a smile curving her sinfully swollen lips.
“Oh, yeah?” I slide one finger into her tight, wet heat and barely hold back a groan. “Did that do it for you, sweetheart?”
She nods. “No one has defended me like that before.”
“I will,” I promise her. And I mean it. “I always will. From now on, Indie, you can count on me to defend you. It’s what I was made to do.”
She sucks in a ragged breath when I push another finger inside of her, stretching her, getting her ready to take me. And when I brush her clit with my thumb, her back bows off the bed.
Beautiful.
