Page 50 of Wild Mistake
Her cheeks flush as she meets my gaze. “Sorry.” She swallows hard. “Your body.”
“What about it?” I shove my jeans down my hips and to her credit she doesn’t drop her gaze to the front of my boxers. If she did, she’d see evidence of my growing erection.
“It’s distracting.”
“I feel the same about yours.”
“Stop.” Her eyes squeeze shut. Her expression is almost pained.
“Stop what?”Is she having second thoughts? Fuck. Did I push too hard?I only wanted to test her boundaries, not blast right through them. The last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable or pressured to do something she doesn’t want. “Sarah, tell me what’s going through that beautiful head of yours.”
“You don’t have to . . .” She trails off before meeting my gaze. This time her eyes are fueled with an angry fire. “Don’t lie to me, okay? My body isn’t like yours. I know I’ve let myself go. But don’t lie to me. Don’t pretend I’m something I’m not. I don’t need that kind of attention from you or from anyone.”
“Sarah.”Is she fucking serious?
“Don’t. It is what is. I don’t want your pity.”
“Pity?” I can’t stand the space between us. “You think this is pity?” I take three long strides. One more and our bodies would touch. I cup my erection over my boxers. “This is what you do to me, Sarah. You. No one else. And I don’t know who told you or made you believe that you aren’t fucking beautiful just the way you are, but they’re a goddamn liar. Do you know how much self-control it takes to not haul you into my arms every time we’re together?”
She blinks, staring as if gauging the honesty of my words. They’re nothing but truth.
“Do you know how badly I want you right now? How every night I stroke my dick alone in bed wishing I could sink into your softness. Sarah, you are fucking gorgeous.”
“You’re just saying that,” she whispers.
“I’m not.”
“I want to believe you.”
“Maybe I should show you?” My dick is aching to be touched. I give in, stroking myself over the fabric of my boxers. “Would that be okay?” I hold Sarah’s gaze. “Would you like it if I showed you exactly what I’ve been dying to do to you?”
Her chest rises with her shallow breath. She swallows hard, nodding.
“Tell me, Sarah. I want to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Show me.”
She wants this. She wants me.
I inhale a ragged breath and take a step forward, crowding her. My fingers shake as I run my hands across her waist, to the hem of her shirt. “Sarah, you were always pretty, but you’re a fucking wet dream. My wet dream.” I lift, pulling the fabric up over her body before dropping it to the side.
Every glorious inch of her exposed skin fills my mind with dirty thoughts. Her breasts swell over the cups of her bra. I want to touch her. I need to kiss her. I’m dying to fuck her. But somehow I retain control, running my hands up her bare arms, caressing along the outline of her bra, and skimming the column of her neck. “Sometimes when I touch myself, I think about fucking these tits. And sometimes I think how pretty your lips would look wrapped around my cock.”
Her eyelids sweep low and she lets out a moan.
The sound goes straight to my dick.Fuck. This woman is so sexy.I hate that she doesn’t believe it. “But you know what I think about the most?”
“What?” She bites at the inside of her cheek, her gaze sweeping down my body.
My hands go to her hips and I dip one finger inside the waistband of her pants, giving them a tug. “I think about burying my face between your thighs and eating that pussy until you call my name.”
“Fuck.” She exhales.
“Exactly.” I grin and take a step back. “Don’t make me be the only one standing here in my underwear.” I meet her gaze. “Strip.”
“Strip?” Her eyes are wide, but she wants this. She’d tell me to fuck off if she didn’t.
“Come on, Sarah. Where’s my brave girl?”
