Precious Gems - Sierra Hill Page 0,17
my will.
I open my mouth to refute his claims, to push him away so I have room to breathe, but the words get trapped in my throat when his lips meet the sensitive skin below my ear. My hands flutter wildly before they land on his firm, solid chest. I try to push him away, but instead, grab his sweater to draw him closer.
His warm breath fans out, the scent of minty fresh breath with a tang of bourbon lingering over my neck, the masculine spice of his cologne activating some chemical reaction in my bloodstream.
My eyes close on their own accord, as I tilt my head to the side to offer him more canvas to explore. The sensitive buds of my puckered nipples rub roughly against his shirt as it grazes Faron’s chest.
A squeak of excitement escapes my lips when his hand wraps at the base of my neck, drawing me closer, my belly doing crazy acrobatics from the thrill of being handled this way.
I want more, more, more.
And he seems to answer the call with the firm press of his hard length between my legs, his foot kicking at my ankle to give him room.
Our bodies are tangled in a dance of possession and need. Desire and control.
Without disengaging his lips from the spot on my neck, Faron walks me backwards in calculated, measured steps until my back is pressed to the wall and Faron’s cages me in from the front. His fingers weave through my hair, tugging it into a fist, his fingernails biting into my scalp.
And then his mouth is on mine. The kiss is punishing and cruel, as if a means of transferring all his frustration out on me. His mouth maliciously attacks as his tongue stabs between my lips so that our teeth clank noisily together.
And it is everything I’ve ever wanted.
It’s not the soft peck of my first kiss. Or the grossly sloppy and underrated teenage make-out session with Pete Hanson in the ninth grade.
No, this kiss is powerful, shaking me to the core, rendering me lightheaded as my knees wobble and my heart wickedly thunders in my chest from the roguish manner he masters my mouth. I’m vibrating with need, but as Faron ends the kiss, I realize the vibration I feel against my hip is actually his phone.
Faron backs away so suddenly, I feel as if I’m falling from a dizzying height. He drops his hands from my neck and hair, staring at me with a disassociated scowl. As if he can’t quite believe what he’s just done with me. Or why.
Everything in me turns cold, shivers manifesting over my skin, skittering down my arms that I cross in front of my chest, hugging my torso tight in a protective gesture.
“Fuck,” he curses, his voice roughened by lust, blinking a few times before shaking his head. “What the fuck?”
His question is rhetorical, as he shoves a hand in his pants pocket and removes a phone.
“What?” His answer is brittle and terse, and I wonder if the caller on the other end of the line is surprised by his tone.
There’s now three feet between us, but he remains watching me with scrutiny as I try to blend into the shadows as much as I can.
“Roman, I’m busy. What do you want me to do about it?”
I turn my head and notice the mirror on the other wall, seeing my reflection for the first time. My hair is a disheveled mess and my lips are swollen and puffy from the way they were devoured just moments ago. I smooth down my fly-aways as best I can, hoping to regain some semblance of modicum, even though I like my sexy, mussed-up look.
Out of the corner of my eye, Faron edges toward me until he’s within inches again. One hand grips the phone to his ear and the other he places at my chin, turning me to face him.
“Yes, I understand. If that’s what you want to do, I agree with you. But this has to be sorted out tonight. I have other pressing matters I have to deal with.”
His thumb glides over my bottom lip, pressing down at the center so I’m forced to open my mouth. He’s so casual about it, looming before me, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth. In a bold gesture, I flick my tongue over the smooth edge of his thumb, watching as his dark eyes stoke like black charcoal. And then he shoves it in