Page 38 of Perfect Guy

Madelyn

A loud groan comes from Canaan. He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. His chest falls on a deep exhale.

“Madelyn, the idea of you using a vibrator may be the death of me. Knowing you’re tempted to use my body in that way…fuck, I’m all yours.” His eyes burn into mine.

“I want you to be the one to give me an orgasm when we get there, not my body rubbing against yours in desperation. I’m not opposed to dry humping—or wet since we’re in the lake—but I want you to consciously bring me to the brink the first time.”

“I take back what I said. This conversation is going to be the death of me.” He tips his head back to the sky.

I giggle and move closer to him, doggy paddling since I don’t reach the ground.

“Are you hard?” I whisper in his ear.

I don’t wait for a response. I move my hand between us and feel his length in my palm. His swim trunks barely hide his erection. Canaan hisses as I rub my palm over his dick.

“Fuck, Madelyn. I thought you were innocent and sweet.”

My gaze flickers between his. “I am, but I’m also a woman with needs.” I squeeze the tip of his dick.

“I’m going to lose it.” His teeth are clenched.

In a swift movement, he wraps his arms around me, keeping me close and trapping my hand between us. One of his hands skims the back of my ass until it’s curved toward my pussy.

His fingers sneak under the side of my bathing suit, and I freeze. My heart slams as I stare at him wide-eyed.

”Is this what you want?” His whisper is laced with dark need. Gone is the gentleman. In his place is the dirty-talker.

“You want my fingers inside of you, fucking you?”

I whimper at his words. Nerves ricochet inside of me, stilling my hand on his length. One of his fingers reaches out, barely flicking my clit before tracing my opening. He’s teasing me. I tense and shift my hips.

Canaan laughs, shaking his head. “I’m controlling this.” He leans in. Right when I think he’s going to kiss me, he moves his head back and keeps his eyes on mine.

I whimper, tightening my core and shaking my hips again. Canaan brushes my clit one more time, and it’s not enough. His touches are the tip of the iceberg when I know there’s an entire world buried in the depths.

“Canaan,” I whine.

“What do you want?” His lips skim my cheek to my ear. “Do you want my fingers or my dick?” He leans back, eyes blazing. “Maybe you want my mouth.”

“Goodness,” I moan. “All of the above. Give me everything, just please do something.” I beg him to stop torturing me.

“Sweet Madelyn…” he tsks. “Tell me how you want it.”

“Finger me,” I demand. I’ve never had to ask like this. The few guys I’ve been with just did what we both knew was necessary.

Instead of doing what I asked, Canaan removes his hand.

“C…” I warn.

He snickers. “Patience, babe.” He keeps his arm wrapped around my waist but loosens his hold a bit. My hand long ago fell from his length with his teasing.

Canaan sneaks his hand between us, into the front of my bikini bottom. “If we were on the shore, I’d remove them, but I don’t think you’d appreciate having your bikini floating away.”

Feeling brave, I wordlessly hook my fingers into the bottoms and slide them down my legs, kicking them off. I hold them up between us, hooking one of the leg holes in my arm.

“Problem solved.” I lift a brow.

“Fuck me…” Canaan scrubs a hand down his face and stares at the sky again.