Make Me - Tessa Bailey Page 0,43

her belly became, forcing Abby to rub her thighs together, seeking friction. Oh God, was it possible to have an orgasm from hearing a man moan your name? Not just any man. Russell.

“I kept it for you, Abby. All for you.” His hand started to stroke in time with Abby’s mouth and impossibly, his erection thickened even more. The added girth only made her more determined to take him deeper. So she did, forcing her throat to relax and allow him entry. “Ahhh, fuck. You making up for lost time, angel? All that teasing you did?” He slipped deeper and let out a low growl. “Damn right, you are. It was worth the pain, wasn’t it? Worth it to see your cheeks hollowing out, feel that purr at the back of your throat. I’m going to love sexing up that virgin mouth.”

His voice cracked on the final word, his hard length jerking in her mouth. She had no time to prepare as Russell pulled out, dropped to the floor, and spun her around. After what happened in his house that afternoon during the week, she expected him to release on her backside, but he didn’t. Instead, one strong arm banded around her shoulders and yanked her backwards, into a prone position, so she lay on top of him, with her back to his chest, tied hands flattened between their bodies.

“R-Russell—”

“Open your legs,” he grated.

Her body moved to obey his command, heels digging into the floor on either side of him. She felt his forearm flexing beneath her right thigh as it moved between his legs, working the erection she’d so recently pleasured with her mouth. Up and down in a blurred motion until liquid warmth landed on her belly, lower. Beneath her, she could feel Russell’s muscles bulging against her back and bottom, his breaths catching and rasping at her ear.

“You sucked it so good, Abby. Made me come so fucking hard. All over you.” His hips bucked beneath hers. “Let anyone but me see your body? I can’t. I can’t.”

“Okay . . . it’s okay,” she gasped, attempting to catch her breath. She never got the chance. Russell’s fingers delved between her thighs, using the moisture from his own body to coat her center, make her slippery. Abby’s back arched on a muffled scream, the sensation of coarse touching smooth blowing her mind. She’d been so focused on Russell’s pleasure, she’d lost sight of her own needs, but they wouldn’t be ignored now. Her feet scraped on the floor as two rough fingers became her entire universe. They circled her clitoris, pressed and held, slid down the sides and pinched, circled again. Faster.

Abby’s body writhed on top of Russell’s stronger, more powerful one, but the arm banding her shoulders only tightened to keep her still.

“Ahhh. Now I know, don’t I?” His voice rumbled at her neck, making her shiver. “I know when you mouth off and push me, you need your pussy taken care of. That’s my job. My privilege. Next time just ask like a good girl.”

Her climax was blinding, the buildup of frustration she’d only been aware of peripherally, rolled off her in a tidal wave. Flesh quaked, hands scrambled for purchase, as the tension within her was obliterated. “Russell, Russell, Russell . . .”

“I’m here,” he murmured. “If you’re coming, angel, it’s a foregone conclusion that I’m there every fucking time. Understood?”

“Yes,” she sobbed, collapsing back onto his chest. “Every time.”

Russell kissed the side of her face, holding her close as he moved them into a sitting position, Abby between his outstretched legs. His heart thundered against her back, bringing a drowsy smile to her face. Whatever questions lay between them, wasn’t their equally erratic heartbeats the most important answer? Russell had a dominant side—was that the reason he’d been keeping her at arm’s length? She couldn’t wait to tell him how ridiculous that was. It had all become clear since he’d entered the room. Since the beginning, that part of him—the gruff, commanding, often angry part—had attracted her. His stern manner, his protective nature. All of it. Knowing it was darker and even more demanding didn’t repel her in the least. Oh no. On the contrary. She wanted to be drawn into the eye of his storm and spun madly. The counterpoint to his nature had been right there inside her, she’d just been waiting for him to act. Waiting to put a name to the urges and sensual imagery in her head but not