Page 23 of Mark my Words

“You looked so fucking hot in this skirt when you walked in tonight,” he whispered as he reached between us, unclasping my bra with deft fingers and discarding it on the floor. His skin seared mine as he flattened himself against my back, his fingers more insistent as he teased my nipples. “I couldn’t see anyone but you.”

“Like you can talk, Mr. Sleeves Rolled up to his Elbows.”

He chuckled as he placed open-mouthed kisses along the side of my neck. “I heard you girls have a thing for forearms,” he teased, grinding his hips against mine.

One comment a few weeks ago about how I’d rather watch a guy roll his sleeves to his elbows than pose shirtless, and he was using it as ammunition against me. The cocky bastard remembered everything.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, cupping my breast with one large hand, flattening the other against my stomach, and teasing the waistline of my skirt with his fingertips. “God, why do I want you so fucking much? You drive me crazy, but I can’t stay away from you. You make me so fucking hard, and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Don’t stop,” I panted as they delved under the material, sliding into my panties and right to where I wanted them. He drove me crazy too, but sanity was overrated, it seemed. “Oh, God, Sam. Don’t stop.”

“Told you I’d have you moaning my name.” He parted my folds, slowly teasing my lips as he played with the moisture he’d inspired there with his dirty mouth. “Fuck, you’re so wet. I bet you’re tight. I’m going to make you come so hard. This skirt is just evil. I bet you knew it’d make me want to rip it off you. You’re a fucking tease without even realizing it. Or maybe you realize it and are just trying to drive me insane.”

“Fuck,” I exhaled in a whisper as he leaned me forward, hooking his fingers inside of me and starting a slow grind against my ass as he fucked me with his long fingers.

“Not yet,” he whispered against the back of my neck as he picked up the pace, the muscles in his arms flexing as he drove me to oblivion. I never came this fast. Never. Even when I did it to myself, I had a tough time relaxing, but within moments, I was panting, leaning forward to grasp his comforter tightly as he pushed me toward the edge. “I want you just as wild as you make me. Fucking beg for it.”

“Oh...oh...more, please,“ I panted as I fell over the edge, pulsing against his insistent fingers, colors flashing behind my closed eyelids as my chest heaved. He’d barely done anything, and I’d gone off like a rocket.

“Fuck,” he groaned, steadying me before he pulled his hand out. I slumped against the bed, turning my head to look at him as he licked his fingers. Shit. Why did I find that so hot? And why was I now picturing him with his head buried between my legs?

“Come here,” he whispered, helping me stand, wrapping his arms around my waist, and burying his face into my neck. “Fuck. That was so hot. You sound exactly like I imagined you would when you came. So desperate. Trying to remain in control but finally letting me push you over the edge. God, I need to be inside you. Are you ready for me?”

“What do you think?” I laughed, wiggling my hips against him.

“Goddamn,” he exhaled sharply, turning me around and sitting me on the edge of his bed.

His fingers quickly popped open the button on his jeans, pushing them to the floor before he stepped out of them and placed his hands on my knees.

“Something needs to go,” he whispered, toying with the hem of my skirt. I reached for the zipper on the side, but he shook his head. “Not that. The skirt stays on. I’ve been fantasizing about flipping that thing up for too long. Don’t deny me my fantasy.” His fingers skimmed my thighs, grasping the sides of my panties as he slowly drew them down my legs, kneeling on the floor at my feet as he helped pull them off. “You’re fucking soaked.” I thought he’d stand back up quickly, but that was not what happened as he slowly pushed the front hem of the skirt up and out of the way.

“What are you...? Oh,“ I moaned as he used his hands to tilt my hips backward, causing me to hold myself up with outstretched arms. His long fingers parted me as he took a slow lick up my center, those haunting blue eyes watching my reaction as he tasted me.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice smug as he leaned back and licked his lips.

“Never mind, keep going,” I commanded in a harsh whisper that tapered into a moan as he slipped his tongue inside me. I don’t think I’d ever associate the word selfish with Sam Langley again, as he worked me up. My voice was harsh as I failed to hold in the moans he created when he latched onto my clit and sucked. Hard.

My head fell backward, and my eyes closed, hair brushing the mattress as his fingers joined in, finding that spot inside that made me pant and squirm. Sam was already putting my toys to shame. His name was on the tip of my tongue as he sucked, bit, and licked me into a frenzy, my face numb and my brain fuzzy as I called out his name. “Fuck, Sam. Oh my God.”

He kept going, not letting up, until I grasped the hair at the back of his head in my fist and pulled him away.

“Take those off,” I moaned, nodding to the substantial tent in his boxer briefs. “Right fucking now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled as he stood and pushed them to the floor, his length springing forward. He wasn’t huge, but from what I’d seen, I bet he knew how to use what he had. His whole body was long and lean, cut with tightly packed muscles, and I wanted to explore it with my tongue, but right now, I wanted that cock inside me.

“Protection?” I asked as I watched him slowly grip his cock in his large hand, working the rigid flesh in a way that made me want to suck it into my mouth and feel it throb on my tongue. The pill was a part of my nightly regime, but I had no idea who else he’d had in this bedroom.

“On it,” he nodded as he took a few steps around the bed to his nightstand, ripping open a box of condoms and pulling out a string of them. He tore one off with his teeth and threw the others toward the pillows as he sheathed himself. Stepping between my parted legs, his hands grasped the sides of my neck. “Can I kiss you?”

Generally, if a guy asked me that after going down on me, my automatic answer would be no, but I wanted Sam’s lips on mine. I’d barely started nodding, and his mouth was slanted across mine, tongue in my mouth as he ground his hard cock between my legs. One of my hands grasped the side of his face as the other guided him to where we both wanted him to be.

“Fuck,” I whined against his lips as he pressed inside, hot and hard. His tongue thrusting in my mouth as he rocked his hips back and then pushed forward again.

“God, Kristine,” he panted as his head fell to my shoulder, his hands grasping my hips as he kept his slow but insistent pace. “You feel so good. God, why does this feel so good?”

“It could feel better,” I whispered, hooking my feet around the backs of his legs and pulling him into me harder. “Don’t hold back. Fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me like you despise me.”

“But I could never despise you,” he whispered, eyes wide as he leaned back slightly, pulling me to the very edge of the mattress and tilting my hips up. He scanned my face, waiting for something, but I wanted him to use me. “Never.”

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