Page 62 of Sweet Ache (Driven 6)
I look back up to the salacious look in his eyes and know he’s turned on by the fact that I like to watch him slide in and out of me. We hold each other’s gaze as he moves slowly back in and it’s like one big chain reaction of electricity from my core out to my fingers and toes with every movement of his.
Fixated on the eroticism of the moment, I glance back down to watch us. I’m so turned on by everything—the man before me, the idea of being here and doing this when we shouldn’t be, the pleasure he’s most definitely bringing me—that I purposefully squeeze my muscles around his dick when he begins to withdraw so that the wide crest of his head has trouble pulling all the way out.
I love the groan he emits and the way his head falls back at the sensation, giving me a glimpse of his strong jaw and Adam’s apple before looking back up and straight into my eyes. “Keep doing that sweetness and I’m going to come quick and hard.”
Wanting to watch him, I fight the urge to close my own eyes as I’m swamped with the sensation of him bottoming out inside me and holding there in a silent dare. “Quick and hard?” I whisper, leaning forward, muscles contracting again with the movement. “Yes, please.”
His eyebrows arch and a libidinous smirk curls up one corner of his mouth. “Fuck …” He moans the word out as desire and my comment snap the restraint he was barely holding on to. “Hold tight, Q.”
And the minute the words are out of his mouth he begins to move at a demanding pace, the cabinet hitting smartly into the wall behind me with each thrust. The small space fills with the hushed sounds of our desire, the slap of skin on skin, and the console rattling from the force. My hands grip the edge for support as I open my eyes to see his face pulled tight with pleasure, eyes closed, shoulders tense.
He obliterates everything else so that I can focus only on him, on this, and the way he’s manipulating my body. All three pull me under the frenzied state of bliss so that I’m almost drugged when my orgasm hits me in an earthquake of sensation that reverberates through me and then comes back to slam into its epicenter once more.
I manage a broken cry of pleasure before suppressing it when I realize where we are. And it’s almost as if the minute my sex starts contracting around him, when he knows I’ve had mine, Hawkin sets a punishing pace for himself to chase his own climax.
He’s sexy as hell when he comes, head thrown back, fingers unknowingly bruising the tender flesh of my thighs to match the marks he left there this weekend, and he releases a feral groan that resonates in my ears and scores my memory.
He rests his head on my shoulder as we both catch our breath. “Class,” he murmurs as a reminder to himself where we are before lifting his head and pressing a chaste kiss to my lips as he slips out of me. “Holy shit, you’re incredible.”
He shakes his head before glancing down to remove the condom and clean himself up, while my ego and emotions soar from his compliment. I slowly dismount the console, testing the stability of my legs since he’s just rocked my world.
He zips up and looks at me watching him. “That was right up there with cookies ’n cream,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows and a flash of a grin. I laugh that this was as good to him as his beloved ice cream. “Take your time; I’ve got to act like we weren’t just in here doing …” He just shakes his head, his sudden shyness adorable in so many ways.
“Oh, I brought you something,” I tell him when suddenly the irony of it hits me and causes me to smile. “It’s in the front part of my backpack.”
He looks at me, eyebrows knitted in curiosity. “What is it?”
“A box of Good and Plenty,” I deadpan, trying to fight the smirk but failing miserably, thinking of the suggestive nature of the candy’s title.
He throws his head back and laughs heartily, the sound reverberating deep within me. “Oh I’ll give you good and plenty, all right,” he says crossing the short distance to me before grabbing me and placing another kiss on my lips. “I believe I just did.” He steps back, smug smile on his lips, and just shakes his head before he walks away.
I sag against the cabinet, a replay of the explosive and incredible sex we just had running through my mind over and over already.
Because it was that good.
Incredible really. I swear my heart skips a beat at even the thought, and I try to tell myself it has to be the newness of him, plus our inh
erent physicality together, that makes our sex so goddamn incredible. I rationalize that there is no way I could have feelings for him beyond the earthmoving sex we’ve had that makes it just seem that much more.
It’s a futile attempt. I know I’m lying to myself. I’ve had good sex before—nothing like this, but still good—and I know my insides didn’t twist and flutter from it like they are right now.
I’m falling for Hawkin, the epitome of everything I told myself I’d never fall for.
Shit.
Chapter 19
HAWKIN
I scrub my hand over my jaw as I contemplate how to answer the question one of the students has asked me, and I realize I can still smell the scent of Quin’s pussy on my fingers. Fuck me.
Talk about a way to lighten the somber memory of today’s anniversary.
And ease the anxiety over the judge sitting in the very top row of the auditorium, watching my every move to make sure that I’m fulfilling my obligation.
I force myself to concentrate on not screwing up, not on how little Miss Q just screwed me senseless in the alcove over to my right, but fuck if it’s not hard to do. Especially with her scent now seared in my psyche.
So I glance over to where she sits, head down, working on whatever she works on while I lecture, and I lose my train of thought. Well of course you did, dipshit. All you can think about is diving back beneath that skirt as soon as class is over. And God how I love her affinity for sexy-ass skirts.
