Page 65 of Some Sort of Happy (Happy Crazy Love 1)
“Did I tell you how much I like your shoes tonight?” I said, removing my cuff links. After slipping them into my pocket, I cuffed my sleeves, fighting the urge to rip off that black dress, throw her legs in the air, and fuck her into oblivion with my hands wrapped around her ankles.
She shook her head.
“I love them.” Moving closer to her, I switched on the bedside lamp.
“Thank you.” She looked up at me, her eyes wide and trusting, but just a little bit worried.
“Are you nervous, angel?”
She glanced at the rope on the table. “Maybe a little.”
Was she playing or serious? She was an actress, after all. Maybe she knew how hot it was to play the innocent. Either way, her answer made my cock even harder. I tipped her chin up. “Stand up.”
She stood and gazed up at me through her lashes.
“Turn around.”
She presented me with her back, and I moved her hair aside and slowly unzipped her dress. Black lace appeared as the two sides separated, and my breath stopped.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a corset.”
“With straps?”
“Yes. It keeps everything smooth and in place under a fitted dress like this…plus I like nice underwear.” She shimmied the dress down her arms and legs and stepped out of it, laying it on the bed.
My legs felt like they might give out—below the corset, which laced up the back, she wore a matching black thong. I let my eyes wander from her long blonde hair to the cinching of the corset to the perfect ivory curves of her ass down her slender legs to those fuck-me-I’m-adorable heels. Jesus. I don’t care what anyone says, NO MAN is good enough to deserve this.
But since I was here.
I moved up behind her and kissed her back, rubbing my lips softly against her skin. Her perfume was slightly floral, slightly sweet, like orange blossoms, and I inhaled, taking her scent into my head and chest. “You smell good enough to eat,” I said, running my hands down her arms from shoulder to fingers. “But first…” Pausing to grab the coil of rope from the nightstand, I brought her hands behind her back and crossed her wrists. As I wound the rope around them, I spoke to her in a low, soft voice. “You’re so beautiful, angel. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. That kind of beauty has a strange power over men—it makes us feel strong and yet weak. Protective of it and yet defenseless against it.” Her breath was coming faster, her chest rising and falling. I completed the knot and turned her to face me. “Does that make sense?”
She swallowed. “I don’t know.”
I slipped my fingers into her hair and lowered my mouth to hers, tasting her lips with my tongue. It made me hungry. I dropped to my knees in
front of her, as all men should. “Open your legs.”
She widened her stance and I kissed my way up each inner thigh, dragging my rough jaw along her smooth skin. “You have to remain standing. That’s my rule.” Then I put my lips on that black lace, fastening my mouth on her pussy, my hands running up the backs of her legs.
She whimpered, her legs trembling. “Oh God, oh God. Your mouth…”
I worked the little scrap of lace aside with my tongue, keeping my hands on her ass. She tasted like honey and oranges and I couldn’t get enough. Burying my face between her legs, I plunged my tongue inside her and then stroked it up her center, finally moving the lace aside with my hand so I could get at her clit.
The second I licked it, her knees buckled a little. I circled her thighs with my arms to hold her up as she moaned and cursed me.
“Enough, please,” she begged. “I can’t stand anymore.”
“Come for me, and I’ll let you lie down,” I whispered.
“I don’t know if I can, standing like this. My legs…” Her tone was pleading, desperate.
“You want to come. I know you do. Come on, angel.” I circled her clit with my tongue, sucked it into my mouth. I did all the things I’d done the other night that had made her gasp and sigh and moan, slipping two fingers in side her and twisting them the way she liked. The knowledge of her body, of her mind, intoxicated me. I know what makes her come.
And I did make her come, her pussy clenching around my fingers, her voice crying out in waves that matched the rhythmic spasms. When her legs finally gave way, I flipped her onto her stomach so her upper body lay across the bed, bound wrists at the small of her back. Her slender arms were pale against the black satin corset. God, her ass is all mine. And fuck, those legs. Those shoes. “Don’t move,” I told her, yanking her wet underwear off. Then I stood and unbuckled my belt, undid my pants.
“Yes,” she panted. “I want it.”
