Page 18 of The Hard Hitter
“No, I don’t want that.”
He scissors his fingers inside me, and every last inhibition I have melts away. I moan and give myself over to him.
“You don’t really want a nice guy, do you? One who’s going to be sweet and vanilla with you?”
I swallow, and his fingers still inside me.
“Answer me.”
“No,” I blurt out.
“What do you want?”
“I want you, Zander. I want a guy who’s going to do and say filthy things to me.”
“Then why did you run away?”
I tear my gaze away and glance down at the sink, suddenly unable to meet his stare in the mirror. “I shouldn’t want this,” I answer honestly, a niggle of guilt creeping back in. “It’s…wrong.”
He cups my chin, lifts it until we’re eye to eye in the mirror again. I gulp at the raw need staring back.
“There is nothing wrong with what we’re doing. You should never be embarrassed by your needs, Sam. Not with me.” His finger moves inside me again. His brow furrows, like he’s remembering something. “I’m not sure who fucked you up in the past, but you’re with me now, and seeing you let go and offer yourself up to me so I can fuck you hard is the sexiest thing in the world.”
A measure of bliss races through me, his words bolstering my confidence and tamping down the guilt. He plunges his fingers in and out of me, so hard and beautiful, it’s almost impossible to think.
“Now tell me this is wrong, and I’ll stop.”
I shake my head and my hair falls into my face. “No.”
Zander grips my long strands, tugs hard until my chin is up again. I moan at the pleasure. “No what?”
“It’s not wrong.”
With that, he pulls a condom from his pocket and drops to his knees. He grips my thighs with his big hands and tugs, opening my hot sex to him. His warm tongue glides over my damp lips, centers on my clit, hits it with lashing strikes that steals the oxygen from my lungs. I try to move, spread for him, but my legs are bound by my jeans and that comes with its own excitement. He eats at me until I’m quivering, delirious to feel his fat cock stretching me open.
“I want your dick,” I say, and he chuckles between my legs. I grin at that, loving that he likes when I talk dirty too.
“Do you now?” he asks and climbs up my body, putting his mouth to my ear.
“Yes.”
He shoves his thumb into my mouth. “Show me how you’re going to suck it later, when I get you back to your place.”
I close my lips around his thumb, and he watches in the mirror. My lids shut and I work his thumb, moaning in bliss, until his cock is pulsing against my backside, clamoring to get into my tight opening. I wiggle, trying to tease him, and he pulls his finger from my mouth.
“Let me suck it now,” I say, and don’t miss the pleading tone in my voice.
“Not here. I don’t want you on this floor,” he says and, oddly enough, his consideration fills me with warmth. He likes it dirty, too, but he has standards, cares about my well-being. Damn, a girl could get used to a guy like that.
“I need in here,” he says, and shoves his tip into my tight opening. With my legs locked together, I have no idea how he’s going to get in, but once he does it’s going to be mind-blowing.
He puts a hand around my waist and cradles my stomach. With a little pull, I go lower and brace the side of my face on the edge of the sink. The cool porcelain feels glorious against my hot flesh. Some small working brain cell reminds me Quinn is waiting for me, could possibly come looking for me.
“What if someone comes?” I say, but it turns to a moan as he gives me an inch, and then another, and oh my God the guy has so many glorious inches to give.
“That’s the plan, Sam.” His voice is deep, tortured, and knowing I can make him sound like that turns me on even more. I rear back, and take more of him, before he’s offered it, and he growls and slaps my ass.
“Don’t move.”