Make Me - Tessa Bailey Page 0,42
been so miserable in her presence for so long?
Russell brushed up against her, looming so large, she felt intimidated . . . and liked it? No, she loved his staring down from above, deciding what to do with her. To her. Loved knowing that Russell would decide her fate. Through the burning anticipation, though, she saw worry simmering behind his fierce expression. Knew he’d need to be pushed. Just a little more.
He leaned down and spoke, his lips moving on her forehead. “Apologize for teasing me.”
I’m sorry. So sorry. “No.”
His growl vibrated against her skull. “I don’t know what you’re waking up here.” The torture lacing his tone ripped at her heart, but she stayed silent, waiting for him to speak. “What if it scares you, angel?”
Abby tilted her head back to meet his blazing eyes. “What if it doesn’t?”
A muscle jumped in his cheek, and she witnessed a change come over him. Saw his energy shift and change shape, hardening in some places, softening in others. It didn’t alarm her, though.
No, it felt like she’d been waiting for this side of him to arrive.
Moving so fast, Abby barely had time to register what was happening, Russell grabbed her wrists, positioned them at the small of her back, and—oh God—tied them together with the mangled bikini top. His lack of gentleness and absolute focus on the task turned Abby’s need on its head, whipping the already raging inferno into a frenzied, five-alarm barn burner. Need this. Love this.
“You’ve done it now.” He jerked one of the ties, making the material tighten around her wrists. “I might have been able to handle it, too. Go forever just letting you tease me. So long as I could look at you, talk to you, watch you sleep. Now I hurt everywhere. It’s everywhere, and it’ll never go away.”
“I’ll fix it.” Logic didn’t apply to this conversation, only intuition. A unique communication that only flowed between her and Russell. “Show me how.”
Finished with the task of securing her hands, Russell’s touch found his erection again and gripped the base. “Fucking hell, Abby. Look at you. I’m done being noble.” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, let it go with a slow pop. “The ache is down low. If you want to fix it, get on your knees and go find it.”
As if her strings had been cut, Abby dropped to her knees, thrusting out her breasts for him to look at. A rush of excitement and power suffocated any remaining nerves. This was her secret fantasy come to life . . . and she could admit now that Russell’s face had always been obscured in those daydreams. But she’d known it would be him. She’d known.
He eased closer, held the tip of his arousal just above her mouth. “What do I want to hear?”
“I’m sorry for teasing you,” she whispered.
His left hand threaded its way into her hair, the action uneven and desperate. “You know there’s absolutely nothing you could do that would be wrong, don’t you?” Biting his lip, he ran the smooth head across the seam of her lips. “You could lap at it like a kitten, and I’d come like the dirty motherfucker I am.”
Okay. Abby hadn’t lived with two sex-crazed roommates for half a year without hearing a few things. She knew how to give head even if she hadn’t physically performed the act. Deep. Deeper. All of it. Please. She’d heard those very words being growled through closed doors in the apartment when she shouldn’t have been listening beyond the initial groan. But those frantic instructions had clued her in on the right way to please a man. And she planned on doing it right the first time.
Abby rubbed her cheek against Russell’s grip. When even that simple action almost buckled his knees, liquid warmth gathered between her thighs. A beating started all over her body. A simultaneous, rhythmic pumping of blood. Unable to wait another second, Abby pushed forward on her knees, took Russell between her lips, and sucked the thick, round head. Inched lower with an easy glide. Then descended as far as she could take him.
“Abby.” The hand in her hair turned to a fist. “Goddamn. That mouth isn’t a tease, is it? Wants to satisfy me. Good. Good little mouth.”
Knowing her mouth had fostered that reaction, those rasped words, sent her slipping into a place of blurred reality. The harder he pulled the strands of her hair, the more pronounced the tug in