Page 41 of Secret (Chicago Underground 6)
“You know, like a beard. But less sexy.”
“I don’t know,” he mused. His fingers resumed their stroking. “I think it would be pretty hard for me not to find this sexy. A little bristle isn’t going to cut it. Besides”—he touched my clit lightly, then backed away—“this was the spot I was going for. Not bristly at all. Very smooth. Only a little wet, but we can fix that.” He dipped his finger lower, into the dampness that had pooled between my folds. Drawing it up, he circled my clit again.
“Oh, Luke.” My heart swelled along with my clit. He made me feel so wanted, inside and out. I knew he enjoyed my body—the hard ridge pressed against my ass from beneath his jeans paid testament to that—but the way he touched me, it was as if that didn’t even matter. Whether my hair was the old blonde or the lingering brown, whether my cunt was shaved or not, he was just as hard for me, just as ready.
“It’s okay, Shelly. You can let go.” He knew the effect he had on me. “I’m here with you. I’ll do anything to be with you.”
Chapter Nineteen
I felt myself clench at his words. He said it to me every day, reminding me that he didn’t just want me for my body, for what pleasure I could bring him. I was trying, but it was hard to believe. It was hard to remember. He understood that too.
“That’s right,” he murmured as my hips began to rock into his hand. “More.”
“Ahh.” I let out a small cry as pain shot up my leg.
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He stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“My leg. Sorry. It’s brushing against the sheet.”
He pulled the sheet off, then gently placed my leg over his. This way nothing could accidentally brush against the wound. The position also left me completely exposed, cool air wafting against my sensitive clit. I shuddered from the chill.
“Shh,” he soothed, his hand reaching for me, fingers pushing inside. I shuddered again, this time from pleasure.
Held open by him, probed by him, I felt vulnerable. It was bittersweet, the lingering sense of shame tainting the overwhelming pleasure. I whimpered.
“I know,” he said, and the most incredible thing was, he did. He knew what it felt like to be afraid to let anyone close. He knew what it felt like to be used. “Just tell me if you want to stop, and I will. I won’t be mad.”
I relaxed into his hold, leaning my head back. His mouth found the skin behind my ear, nibbling down to my neck. I pushed my hips into his hand, practically riding him as I sought my release.
“Yes,” he muttered. “Do it. Use me.”
My whole body tightened, squeezing his fingers and bucking against his palm. I couldn’t find the peak. I could just push and writhe and plead with tiny moans, reach until I felt wrung out and stretched taut.
“Shelly.” He sounded lost when he said my name like that.
I realized that my body was pushing back into his, that my ass was rubbing his cock, and he was probably about to come inside his jeans. That’s what pushed me over, the thought of him spurting that way, making a mess of himself because he couldn’t hold it back. With a cry, I came, grinding down onto his hand, bucking in his arms. He groaned, sucking at my neck as my body released liquid onto his hand. His fingers stilled as the last of the orgasm ran through me.
With a small sigh of contentment, I settled back. He jerked against me.
I smiled without opening my eyes. “So you didn’t come in your jeans.”
He laughed, a short, rough sound of strain. “No. It was close.”
I pressed the curve of my ass against his erection, and he groaned. “Almost there,” I said.
“Is that what you want?” he murmured. “Does it turn you on?”
“Yes,” I said, strangled, and he chuckled hoarsely.
He pushed against me, once, tentative.
“Again,” I whispered.
He held my hip this time, and just like that, his hand keeping my body steady for him to rub his cock against me made my arousal burn hot.
“Again, again.”
