Home > Up to Me (The Bad Boys #2)(23)

Up to Me (The Bad Boys #2)(23)
Author: M. Leighton

“See?  You aren’t thinking. You’re just feeling. You’re feeling me.  Right now you trust me.  You know I’d do anything for you, that I’d never hurt you.  You know you’re not like the others.  I know you know that.  And that you want me.  Just like I want you.”

He’s right.  He’s right about all of it.  And I do want him.  I always have.  In a way it makes no sense, that I’d want him right now considering what might be happening in the next few hours.  But in a way, it makes perfect sense.  If things go wrong, this might be the last time I see Cash, or get to be with him this way.

That thought brings with it both panic and abandon.  I swallow the words that want to rush out, words about love and devotion, words that have no place in this moment.  They deserve to be spoken when there’s no pressure and no distress.  And that’s not now.

But we still have tonight.  So I’ll show him.  I’ll give him everything else I have.

“Tell me you want me,” he commands softly, his voice a low growl.

I don’t hesitate.  Reaching up, I drag my fingertip along his perfect lower lip.  “I want you.”

“Tell me you trust me.”

“I trust you.”

He exhales, his warm breath fanning my face.  “Now tell me you want me to touch you.”

His hands are still, unmoving over my bra. But I don’t want them to be still.  More than anything, I want for them to move.  “I want you to touch me.”

His eyes are pure heat, searing mine.  He watches me as he pulls the cups of my bra down.  His palms are rough as they glide over my nipples making them pucker.  He pinches them between his fingers and lava pours into my core. I bite back a moan.

“Tell me you want me to lick your nipples, to suck them into my mouth.”  His voice is like black velvet.  It slides over my skin like a tangible thing.

“I want you to lick my nipples.”  I’m already breathless as he pulls my tank over my head.  His eyes are back on mine as he reaches behind me to unhook my bra.

“Finish,” he demands, refusing to give me what I want until I spell it out.

“I want you to suck them into your mouth.”

Bending his head, Cash flicks one nipple with his tongue then draws it into his hot mouth.  I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to me.

He sucks on one, biting it lightly, before he moves to the other to give it the same treatment.  When he lifts his head, there’s fire in his eyes.

“Tell me to unzip your pants.”

Even though I can barely speak, I don’t hesitate.  “Unzip my pants.”

In one quick movement, he flips open the button and unzips my pants.

“Tell me you want me to put my fingers inside you.”

His voice is hoarse and his hand is resting just a few inches of where I want it most.  The anticipation of feeling him is almost too much to bear.

“I want you to put your fingers inside me.”

Turning his palm toward my body, he slides his hand into my panties and pushes two long fingers inside me.  My knees go weak and I reach behind me to hold onto the counter top for support.

Cash closes his eyes and moans a little.  “Oh my God, you’re so wet.  Do you know what that does to me?”

I nod.  “Yes.”  I know because I feel it, too.

“Tell me you want me to taste you.”

Slowly, he drags his finger in and out of me.  My hips move with him.

“Taste me.”

Pulling his hand free from me, he raises his glistening finger and slips it into his mouth.  I’m mesmerized.

“That’s the best taste in the world,” he says.  “Tell me you want a taste, too.  I want to watch you lick my finger.”

More heat rushes between my legs.  “I want a taste, too,” I breathe obediently.

Cash bends and, with one quick jerk, pulls my pants down to my ankles.  As he rises, he pauses to press his lips to the outside of my panties, kissing me.  I want to beg him to stop there, but before I can speak, he’s taking my breath away with his wicked fingers.

Pushing my panties to the side, Cash thrusts two fingers inside me, burying them deep and bringing me up onto my toes.  He crooks them within me as he massages my clitoris with his thumb.  He looks up and his eyes find mine again.

Slowly, he straightens and brings one finger to my lips.  His eyes drop to my mouth as I open it.  He drags his wet fingertip over my bottom lip then looks back up at me.  “Lick.”  I lick my bottom lip, tasting the salty sweetness there.  “So good,” he whispers before he slides his finger into my mouth, rubbing it over my tongue.  I close my lips around it and suck until I hear the air hiss through his gritted teeth.

“Tell me you want me inside you.”

“I want you.  Inside me.  Right now,” I pant desperately.

I can’t take my eyes off his.  Even as I hear the sound of his zipper, our gaze is locked together.  I reach down to push my panties over my hips just before Cash grabs me under the arms and puts me up on the counter.  The granite is cool against my butt, making me long for the heat of his body.

Still watching me, always watching me, Cash pulls one shoe off my foot then eases my pants and panties down over it, freeing one leg.

“Spread your legs for me.”

I do as he asks.

His eyes on my moist, sensitive flesh make me feel even hotter, even wetter.  Cash wraps his fingers around his shaft, stroking it slowly from base to tip, making my muscles clench in anticipation of him filling me. “Now tell me what you want.”

“I want you inside me.”

“What do you want me to do there?”

“I want you to come in me, to come with me.”

I hear his moan just before he lets his desire off the leash.  It seems that one moment, he’s inches away, the next, he’s touching me.  All over, everywhere at once.

His hands are in my hair, at my breasts, on my back. His lips are on mine, at my ear, on my neck. His tongue is teasing mine, teasing my nipples, teasing my navel.

Then his hands are sliding under my hips.  The world tilts when he picks me up off the counter.  Just as my legs wrap around his waist, he enters me, pulling me down onto him, seating himself so far inside me that it steals my breath.

As my head falls back on my shoulders, I cry out.  I can’t help it.  I’m lost to everything but Cash.  I barely hear my own voice.  It’s like a soft echo of what’s going on between us—a tornado of sensation and heavy breathing, a hurricane of lips and tongues and teeth and fingers.

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