Page 40 of Off-Limits Bad Boy
She whimpers, then says, “Please.” I love the way she sounds when she begs. The sound, her words, wake something primal within me.
“Shh, just enjoy it,” I say against her, my voice barely above a whisper. I focus on her pleasure, letting my senses guide me as I bring her to the brink.
I feel the moment my tongue pushes her over the edge; her body arches into mine, gasping moans break from her lips, and I hold her through the pleasure, worshiping her with every flick and swirl of my tongue until she melts onto the bed, spent and breathing heavy.
She exhales as if that’s all she can manage. Her eyes are dazed, her cheeks flushed with the aftermath of pleasure.
“Look at you,” I say, my voice thick with need. “So beautiful.” I trail a finger down the side of her face, watching as goosebumps rush down her arms and across her ribs. “I've thought about this, about you, for so long.”
A smile crosses her lips. “Tell me,” she breathes the words, her fingers reaching for me, tracing idle patterns on my arms.
“Every touch,” I say, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, “every kiss,” another to the inside of her other leg, “every dirty dream...” I plant a kiss on the still-pulsing heart of her and she whimpers.
“Show me,” she says, a playful spark lighting up her features.
“Patience,” I tease, even as I ache to give in to her.
I let my fingers skim up her belly, along the valley between her breasts, up to her collar bone as she shivers beneath my touch.
“Please.” She’s pleading with me again, but I'm not sure what she’s asking for, but her voice is filled with a longing I feel wearing down my self-control.
“I want to touch, taste, and kiss every inch of you,” I whisper. “I want to savor every moment.” I’m not in a hurry.
“Then don't stop,” she says, and there's a note in her voice that tells me she's ready for whatever comes next.
“Never,” I say, and I mean it. I know I shouldn't be making promises, but I want her for good.
I trail kisses down her body, each one leaving her trembling, small whimpers escaping her lips as I touch, taste, nibble, and kiss every inch of her skin before positioning myself over her.
When I finally slide into her, she grips me tight, a perfect fit that steals the breath right out of my lungs. The world narrows to just us, Emma and me, moving together. Her wide eyes are locked on me as I pause, giving her a moment to adjust.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my lips brushing her earlobe.
“Better than okay,” she whispers.
Her hips tilt and her words give me the green light to keep moving. I pull back and push into her, the breath wringing from my lungs as I kiss her neck and nibble on her earlobe, loving how she responds to me. Her heavy breathing and the way her nails dig into my arms leave me wanting more.
As I thrust, her body welcomes me, clenching around me like she won’t let me go. Her back arches and she gasps. I know she's close again, so I chase her pleasure with mine, determined to give her everything.
I feel her come undone. Her fingers rake through my hair, then grip my shoulders as her body shudders, leaving me on the brink as she squeezes me in a rippling motion that feels better than anything I can remember.
If I keep moving at this pace, it’s going to be over sooner rather than later.
I slow my movements, determined to extend the moment. Her eyes flutter open, a silent understanding passing between us. “Don't stop...” she whispers in a half-plea, half-command.
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Not yet,” I say through gritted teeth, focusing all my willpower on not reaching my own edge just yet. Her body is still spasming, and her gasping breaths only heighten the pleasure. She’s so beautiful - I’d love to watch her orgasm all day, every day. But I’ll settle for as often as she’ll let me.
I pull back out of her and she gasps, reaching for me as if to pull me back in. But I need to stop now or we’re going to be done for good.
I move off of her and lay back on the bed, trying to talk myself down as she sits up, watching me with that hazy passion of hers. My control frays as she winds her fingers around me, exploring with gentle curiosity that sends waves of heat and desire through me.
“Emma...” I say in warning, but she's already leaning forward, replacing her hand with her mouth. Her bravery knocks the wind out of me, and for a moment, I'm stunned, lost in the sensation and the sight of her. Her lips grip me as her tongue swirls around the tip, leaving me almost cross-eyeing as I try to hold back.
“What?” She pulls back just enough to say, her sky-blue eyes dancing with mischief. “I was curious how we taste.”
Damn. How the hell am I supposed to hold back with her?
Her words, her touch, her daring—it's almost too much. But then she's back, her mouth hot and eager, her hand stroking in tandem as if she’s done this before. A guttural groan rumbles from deep within me, and I thread my fingers through her long, curly hair, marveling at how quickly she adapts, learns, takes control.