Page 18 of Yanked (Frenched 1.50)
“No.”
“Then I’ll come get you.”
He hopped up on the bed and I squealed, jumping off the other side. He followed, chasing me around the bed and over it one more time before I ran for the door.
Wait, what am I doing?
Panting, I turned around and flattened myself against the door for half a second before launching myself at him. Our mouths collided hard, our teeth knocking. His tongue plunged between my lips, battling with mine in a kiss fueled by equal parts anger and desire. He backed me into the door and put one hand around my throat, stroking my lips with his tongue. Our hot, heavy breaths mingled. I put my hands on his chest as if I might try to push him away.
“Come on, Mia,” he coaxed. “Let me give you what you want. I want it too.” Slipping the other hand into my panties, he rubbed my clit in slow circles that had my legs tingling. He moaned as one finger slid easily inside me. “You’re so wet already. I love how wet you get before I even touch you. It drives me crazy.”
My rational thoughts faded as every neuron in my body dedicated itself to the lovely buzz building beneath his fingers. Taking his hand from my throat, he slid one strap of my bra off my shoulder and pulled the lace below my breast. He teased my puckered nipple with his fingers before taking it into his mouth, sucking it between his teeth. Closing my eyes, I flattened my palms against the door, struggling to think, to speak, to breathe. “Godammit, Lucas.”
“You want me to stop?” His hand went still, and the ache inside me intensified.
I grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled his head up to my eye level. “I’m already mad at you, so don’t you fucking dare.”
He crushed his lips to mine, and we devoured each other with a hunger that can only be built up by frustration and time apart. Frantic with need, I undid his pants and shoved them down just enough to get at his hot, hard cock. I took it in two hands, sliding the firm flesh through both fists, my entire body bursting with impatience. Oh my God, I want this. Now.
“Fuck. I need to taste you.” Dropping to his knees, he grabbed my panties at the hips and yanked them down hard. They were still looped around one ankle when his tongue darted between my legs. I fell back against the door as his hands slid up the insides of my thighs and opened me up to his hungry mouth. My entire body hummed as he swept his tongue up the hot, wet seam at my center and traced delightful little circles around my clit. When he sucked it into his mouth, my knees buckled, and I grabbed him by the hair again.
“Now,” I panted. “I want it fucking now.”
He jumped to his feet, hooked his elbows beneath my knees and lifted me up with my back against the wall and my legs slung over his forearms. I was wide open to him, and dripping wet. Bracing my elbows on his shoulders, I closed my eyes and bit my lip as he lowered me onto the tip of his cock, my entire body tense with anticipation. Yesyesyesyesyesyes.
Then he stopped.
I opened my eyes. His face was just inches from mine, and from his devious expression I knew he was torturing me on purpose. “Oh, you bastard,” I breathed, loving and hating him in equal measure. ?
?Give it to me. All of it.”
He kept me suspended where I was.
“You son of a bitch.” I tried lowering myself, but it was impossible.
He gave me another inch. Maybe two.
Oh sweet Jesus. Did we have to have a power struggle right now? I squeezed my eyes shut. Oh God, oh God, oh God…it was almost enough, and I was so close, and everything inside me was buzzing and hot and desperate to close around him. Digging my fingers into his neck, I breathed hard through my open mouth. The image of a bull being taunted by a red cape flashed through my mind. “Lucas,” I whimpered.
“Say you still love me.”
“What?”
“Say you forgive me.”
His mischievous expression was gone, replaced by a genuine look of longing in his eyes, maybe even a little fear. “Say it, Mia.” He lowered me all the way down, and I gasped at the sudden fullness, the shock of pleasure deep inside me. “I can’t lose you. Say you still love me.”
For the first time tonight, I felt like I wasn’t the only one frightened by everything that had happened, by the thought of losing each other. I felt like he needed me, and he knew it.
Too ecstatic to speak for the moment, I circled my hips and felt his cock pulse inside me. He groaned, fighting for control, which made me even happier.
“I love you.” I kissed each of his lips, teasing them open with my tongue. He tastes different now. Because of me. That’s my taste and his, together. The thought was so erotic I nearly came right then and there. “And I forgive you. But now, I really want you to fuck me, or I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Before I could even take a breath, he slammed my back into the door, driving even deeper inside me. I cried out, grasping at his shirt with both hands as he pounded into me with powerful, relentless thrusts. Fuck, why hadn’t I taken all his clothes off? I wanted hot bare skin under my palms, my nails, my teeth. I was about to start tearing at buttons when he pinned me to the wall, holding his cock deep within me and grinding against my clit hard and fast.
“Oh God. I’m afraid—this will be—too fast.” His voice in my ear was raspy, his words choppy as he fought to make it good for me without coming too soon.
But I was already there, suspended on the edge of release and desperate to take him with me. My toes pointed as the muscles in my lower body seized up. Tears came to my eyes as everything inside me pulled blissfully, agonizingly tight. “No. You’re perfect. Don’t stop—don’t stop.”
