Page 7 of Riding Mr. Right
Brick
“We should slow down. You’re emotional right now. We can talk, or maybe I can get Chap and he can walk you through this. He’s good at this kind of stuff. It’s what he does. He did it as part of the seminary for years. The man is a saint.” Jewel’s hands scrub through my beard and brushes over the front of my chest as she kicks her shoes off in front of the closing door.
“Why are we talking about Chap? I want to be here with you.”
I nod, desperate for everything all at once. I want her in my arms, against my skin, on my tongue. I also want her heart, to understand her, to help her with every thought and feeling she’s having.
“Be real, Brick.” Her brows narrow inward as her gaze stays on me. “I see the way you were looking at me. Are you saying I got this all wrong? You don’t want me?” Her eyes nearly whimper as she speaks.
“If this is about wanting you, bunny, of course I want you. I wanted you the second I saw you in that tattoo shop earlier, but you’re not acting like yourself right now and I need you to process this feeling first. Talk to me.”
She shakes her head and tips up onto her toes. “We can talk later. Right now, I need your big, strong hands all over me, Brick. I need to feel wanted. I need to forget.”
I tip my head to the side and lean into the crook of her neck, dragging my thumb across her bottom lip. “I do want you, bunny, but I want you for more than tonight. So, let’s slow down.”
“Everyone thinks they know what’s best for me.” She pushes me back onto the edge of the bed and climbs up onto my lap, twisting her long hair to the side of her shoulder as she leans in. “I know what I want, Brick. Do you?”
Having always been the dominant in the bedroom, I don’t expect her aggression to be as attractive as it is, but fuck if my cock isn’t hard as a rock right now.
Leaning up from the bed, I grip her waist in my arms and twist her off my lap, landing her feet on the ground until I’m stood and backing her against the pine wall. One hand lands above her head, another rests on her throat as I lean into her ear and growl, “You keep fucking around, bunny, you’re going to find out.”
She grins like a wild cat on the Savannah who’s been in heat far too long. “Try me.”
A surge of fire, desperation, and need rush through me as my teeth sink into her shoulder. “Are you giving me permission to take over?”
She sighs. “Please.”
I lean into her lips, kissing each one slowly and carefully as my desperate palms spread all over her body. Her back, her hips, the sides of her breasts, her big, round ass. There’s no doubt in my heart, I want this woman.I need this woman.Body, mind, and soul. I need her to be mine. Mine to care for, mine to love, mine to fuck…hard.
Landing my hand on the side of her neck, I kiss the lobe of her ear and whisper gently, “This is going to be rough.”
She sighs and arches her head back, opening space for me to nestle into as I kiss along her jaw, scrubbing my beard against the path between her neck and her chest, breathing in the soft scent of flowers on her skin.
“Good,” she whimpers.
The soft purr in her tone drives an electric pulse into my groin, sending my hand to her full breasts. I pull down the thin cotton fabric separating her nipples from my bare hand and pinch until she squeaks.
Emotionally speaking, this is going to be a mess, but physically… I can’t keep my hands off her.
Leaning down, I take her nipple into my mouth, suckling the soft flesh that’s hard and ready.
Her back arches away from the wall and her hand lands on my shoulder, as sigh after sigh leaves her lips.
I tip her chin up with my index finger. “Put your leg up on the edge of that table.”
She does as I ask, spreading herself wide for me.
“Good girl.” I palm over her cotton panties, rubbing a single finger on the top of her slit before pressing fabric inward, searching for the swollen nub she’s hiding away. I want her soaking wet before I tuck beneath her panties.
Rubbing my fingers against her covered clit, I work in small circles and press into her, hovering my mouth over her panting lips as I work.
The hard spears of her nipples press against my chest as though everything has always been exactly like this and she’s comfortable enough to dissolve against me. Her hips bend toward my palm and her small hand rubs over the hard fabric of my jeans. “Don’t stop! I need your cock, Brick. Please!”
“Not until you come for me. I want to watch that pretty face when you release that sticky sweet juice on my hands.”
Her panties soak on command and my fingers slip beneath the fabric and into her soft core, sweeping inside with deep thrusting motions.
“Oh God! Yes!” Her hands are on my shoulder again, then in my hair as the late afternoon sun shines through the side window, streaking light across the floor of the room.