The Other Side of Greed (The Seven Sins #5) - Lily Zante Page 0,75
the tables so that I’m on top, straddling him.
“Your turn,” he says, his eyes looking darker than I remember them. Everything I am vanishes in a fog of sexual need as he sits up and peels off my t-shirt before burying his face in my breasts. I can’t help but giggle because his lips tickle and tease but just as I’m about to arch my back, he rolls me off him, jumps up off the bed and strips off my jeans. My insides quiver as his roving eyes slowly take in every inch of my body. He strips off too, and we grin at one another before tumbling back onto the bed. We melt into another kiss, hands tugging each other’s undergarments off. It’s a tricky, logistical, balancing act, with lips and tongues meshed, as we try to undress one another through the haze of our sexual urgency.
He grunts, then falls to his knees, completely naked, his face level with my lower stomach. And then his fingers skate over to my hipbone.
“Found it.” He glances up at me, and I jolt as he kisses the rosebud tattoo just above my hip bone. He licks it teasingly, then sucks the skin, giving me a hickey to the side of it. Just as the shock of us both naked and my realization that he is almost level with my most intimate parts sinks in, his fingers slide between my folds, teasing, electrifying, each stroke amplifying the riot of emotions which threaten to send me over the edge.
When his tongue slides in, I babble incoherently as waves of euphoria splash over me, drowning me in a whirlpool of pleasure. Biting back a moan, the breath hitches in my throat as he undoes me from the inside out.
He doesn’t let up, the expert that he is, worshipping me in a way I haven’t been touched for so long.
And, damn. He’s good.
I moan, and curse, and say his name, rocking against him, spinning out of control. Time slows to a stop, my heart pounds, and I ride the crescendo. I’m going to come crashing down any moment, but I want him inside. I jolt back, managing to pull myself away, then fall onto the bed. Before I have a second to catch my breath, he joins me, and then, in another fast and unexpected move, I’m on top of him again, straddling him as his steel-hard cock stabs me.
I grasp my fingers around him. I am soaked and all I want is to slide onto him. We eye one another, eyes hooded, intoxicated by the lust that has been pooling between us for so long.
I bite my lower lip, the anticipation, the need for him to slide inside me and fill me to the hilt, becoming almost unbearable.
His eyes narrow and he hangs his head. “I don’t have a condom.”
My insides still. Every cell freezes in shock. I stopped taking the pill, and now I’m in danger of letting lust blind me, of letting myself go further than I should. He lifts up on his elbows. I shuffle back a little, watch his throbbing manhood tempt me. I almost salivate at the sight of it.
“Hey,” he sits up and touches my arm. My attention is on his hard-on and the possibility that nothing further might happen. My brain is still warring with my desire.
“We can’t do this,” he says, rolling me onto the bed so that I’m lying beside him, his exposed hardness teasing me.
“I don’t have any birth control either,” I state flatly.
His lips caress my neck. With my panties off and wearing only my bra, my body is primed for all of him. His mouth dips lower, his lips on the front-fastening clasp of my bra. “Don’t worry,” he says, sliding lower and lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses along my stomach before his tongue skims my bikini line. I arch my back in anticipation. “I’ll still make you come.”
I clamp my legs together. It’s not his tongue I want there right now. That won’t satisfy the big aching gap between my legs. I reach down, sliding my fingers around him. “There’s a drugstore around the block.”
He sits up. “A drugstore?” The meaning slowly dawns on him. I’m lying on the bed, desperate for him. The way his erection juts out tell me he feels the same. I chew my lip.
“You want me to go?” he asks.
“Don’t you want to?”
His eyes take in all of me, his heated gaze searing every inch