of levels.
But boy, could I feel.
I could feel the way his lips were sucking against my skin.
I could feel the way that his knee was kicking my thighs apart, forcing them to open for his.
I could feel the way that my nipples were pebbling, wishing that they were free and pressing against the coarse hair that gathered on his chest.
That chest hair?
I’d wanted to run my fingers through that chest hair since I was eighteen.
To see what it felt like against my nipples as he fucked me.
I moaned and widened my legs for him, wishing that he’d pulled my pants and underwear off before he’d situated himself between my thighs. Because then I could feel the heat of him. I could have one less barrier stopping me from feeling him against me more clearly.
“My pants.” I broke my silence ban. “I need you to take them off.”
He growled and ignored me, his mouth moving to the swells of my breasts that were solidly confined behind the material of my sports bra.
I’d come straight from work.
I was still in half of my stupid scrubs.
The bra that I wore was for comfort, not for style.
And suddenly I was wishing that I’d worn the lace one that I’d bought with him in mind last year.
Before I could think too hard on the state of my bra, though, his fingers were curling around one strap and pulling it down over my shoulder.
I licked my lips and pinched my eyes shut as he worked it down over my arm, around my hand, and let it go to come to a rest underneath my armpit.
“That’ll stretch out my bra,” I found myself saying.
He paused to look at me, once again reminding me of my vow of silence.
Why did I say anything at all again?
“Does it matter?” he asked curiously.
“No,” I admitted. “But I paid sixty bucks for it. It’s expensive. If you stretch it out…”
He rolled his eyes and went back to work on the other side of my bra, once again pulling it down my arm and stretching it in a way it wasn’t designed to be stretched.
But he made up for it by pressing kisses down the length of my shoulder, then my arm.
Then, he sat back on his haunches and pulled the top of the bra down low enough that it exposed everything except for the very tips of my nipples. And since the bra was so damn tight, it stayed exactly where it was despite my boobs’ willingness to pop free.
Or my willingness to be free.
His tongue traveled along the line of the bra, dipping up and over each swell with the utmost care.
By the time that he finally tugged the bra the rest of the way underneath my breasts, I was a panting, needy mess that was seconds away from ripping the damn thing down myself.
The moment that he saw my breasts, he groaned.
“God,” he growled as he stared at the dusky tips. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to see these again since I was a kid.”
One time when we were vacationing together, Nathan had walked into the bathroom that I was changing in without announcing himself or knocking.
He’d taken one look at my breasts and had frozen.
Me?
Well, I’d done what any teenage girl would’ve done.
I’d screamed.
Before Nathan had left, though, he’d taken a good, long look.
A long enough look that it was likely that he was correct.
He’d liked what he’d seen.
“You make me crazy,” I whispered, arching up to put my breasts closer to his face.
Closer to that mouth that I wanted sucking on each turgid peak.
“Don’t rush me.” He pressed his hand down flat onto my belly. “I want to do what I want to do. I’ve been dreaming about taking this sweet little body of yours. And you won’t rush me.”
I groaned and fell back to the bed, realizing rather quickly that if I wanted Nathan, I was going to have to deal with Nathan’s attitude.
His ‘my way or the highway’ frame of mind that had always driven me nuts.
His take control nature was always one that’d really gotten on my last nerve.
Now, though?
It was hot.
Him controlling every single aspect of what we were about to do was sending tingles straight to my most intimate of places.
He moved up until his knee was pressed solidly between my legs, the hard meat of his thigh pressing against where I needed him the most.
Chapter 12
You’re wrong. Just sit there in your cave of wrong, and bask in your wrongness.
-Text from