Page 18 of The Perfect Wrong
I’m not afraid in the slightest.
“You like how I taste, princess?” His knowing eyes burn me down as I nod shyly.
Like I could even try to deny it.
Smiling, he leans in again, stamping his mad lips up my throat in an onslaught that stretches all the way to my ear. “Good. I want your lips wrapped around every inch of me, Delia. And I mean now.”
I forget how to breathe.
The very thought of what he’s suggesting turns me to stone.
But he’s got me by the wrist again, leading me when I can’t lead myself. At first, I’m confused when we’re heading for the bar, but soon we’re moving past it.
My feet are so numb. Every step feels like wading through cement.
It’s a minor miracle I don’t trip all over myself, trying to keep up with him.
Is it really happening tonight?
Are we actually sneaking off to some dark corner where I’ll let him whisper all the filthy things he wants before he takes my V-card?
I don’t need to decide.
My body already does by the time we walk behind the small boathouse where Dad parks his yacht.
The second we’re out of sight, Chris pins me against the wall, one snap movement that rattles me.
His mouth attacks mine again, picking up where we never truly ended.
Except now we’re alone with our lust, basking in as much privacy as we’re going to get.
His kisses crash over me like a force of nature, sure and powerful as the dark waves lapping the shore behind us.
“Beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” he whispers as he palms my breast, raking my nipple with his thumb.
I almost see stars.
I almost come on the spot.
“Chris!” I whisper, shaking and not even hiding it.
This is so not how I imagined my first time—not that I’m complaining.
This black dragon devil of the night makes me feel like heaven with every scratch of his stubble against my skin.
His incandescent lips devour me.
His calloused hands roam my skin like a man laying claim.
He holds me down, slides a hand between my legs, and drags his cock against my thigh.
He definitely makes sure I canfeelit behind the fabric.
Oh, hell.
I’ve gotten hot and heavy with a few guys before, even if I haven’t gone all the way. But making out has nothing on this, and his delicious friction stabs deep. His massive bulge presses just right, pushing the fabric over my clit.
Help. Me.