Page 46 of Miss Behaved
“You taste like honey.” Carson licks all the way up my seam before landing on the bundle of nerves again. He’s circling the trigger, and I can’t take it anymore, so I pull my arms down and grip his hair, dragging his stubble-covered chin against me as he licks and finger-fucks and tugs and hums.
“That’s it,” he says against my center. “Come for me.”
My body obeys his command as if it’s waited ten years in a desert for this oasis. Carson’s finger rides out every wave as I clench around him, and he circles his tongue through the final pulses of my hips, dragging his face down my thigh and kissing along it only once the throbbing subsides.
“Fucking perfect,” he hums against the soft skin of my inner thigh. “You’re incredible.”
My fingers play in his hair, and though the rest of the world is upside down, Carson is my true north.
“That’s enough small talk, don’t you think?” I say to him with a smirk, throwing his own words back at him.
He bites down gently into the soft flesh of my leg, and I jolt from the sensation.
“You were saying?” Carson says with a lifted eyebrow.
My breath is coming out in pants. “Fuck me,” I tell him.
The energy in the room shifts with the darkening of his eyes. I’ve let a beast out of his cage, and I don’t want to know up from down once he’s done with my body.
“Brace yourself, Mon,” Carson says, lifting up onto his knees between my legs. “There’s nothing small about what’s going to fuck you sideways.”
It feels like slow motion as he pulls off his shirt, revealing the carved muscle in his beautifully sculpted chest. I’ve written plenty of swoon-worthy leading men, and none hold a candle to the hardened mountain of man in front of me.
I reach for his zipper and drag it down before his hands make it there. Every separation of teeth echoes through the room. He pulls his jeans and briefs down in one move, and his solid length juts out at me.
His thick, large, solid length.
Memory doesn’t do this man justice. Or maybe back then he was still growing up, because as I look down now at the glistening bead on his thick erection, words clog in my throat.
I wrap my hand around the base of him. Carson lets out a greedy growl, and his dick pumps in my hand. I drag over him slowly, pulling out another bead that drips onto my inner thigh.
Oh, my God, that’s hot.
“I—uh…” Carson fumbles for his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. “Protection,” he stammers.
I tighten my grip around him and drag along his length again. He rips open the wrapper and rolls the condom down.
“Carson,” I say, thinking it’s a whisper. But the intensity with which his eyes lock on me tells me he heard me loud and clear. My gaze drops down to his begging dick hovering over me. “I need you.”
I’m not just taking about his body, but he doesn’t need to know that right now.
His hips pull back, and he lowers his chest to bring our lips inches apart, his darkened eyes searching mine.
“You sure about this, Mon?” Carson says. His lips brush against mine as his hand drags from my inner thigh to my knee, pushing me open.
I tilt my chin up and press a kiss onto his warm lips. “I’m sure.” I kiss him again.
His tongue slips into my mouth, and I lose track of his limbs and mine as they tangle together. Wrapping my arms around his trim waist, I pull his muscled chest against me.
Carson drags the head of his erection against my wetness, and with his eyes locked on mine he pauses just long enough for me to nod my acceptance.
It doesn’t matter what distance existed because it closes as Carson thrusts into me. The first one is shallow, letting me stretch and adjust before he drives in harder and takes me fully.
“Are you okay?” he asks in earnest, and I get wetter with the affection.
A trail of breathy yeses escapes as he pumps in and out. “Fuck me,” I say.
He wraps my knees up under the crooks of his arms, and it allows him to hit me deeper. Even the moans clog in my throat as his thick length pumps in, harder and faster, long strokes speeding up.
