Page 82 of The Dating Pact

Her little groans of pleasure were like a shot of adrenaline to my veins, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I sat back on my heels to peel her underwear off like I was unwrapping a gift on Christmas morning. Eager to get to it but relishing the anticipation. I curled my fingers around the thin strips across her hips, skimming my knuckles over the outsides of her thighs as I dragged the thong down her legs, revealing her completely.

“You’re gorgeous,” I murmured, gripping the insides of her knees, not exactly delicate when I pushed them open, creating more room for me to lie down.

But she stopped me from lowering my head. “Wait. I want to talk.”

With the tip of my nose mere centimeters away from the thatch of curls between her legs, I heaved a tortured sigh. “Now?”

“Yeah. I…” She glanced to the digital clock on her nightstand, the one that lit up in the morning and played nature sounds instead of ringing with an alarm. “You said Sebastian has tryouts tomorrow, right?”

I nodded. “Nine a.m.”

“So how late can you stay?”

“Not much later than midnight.” My parents were probably passed out on my couch by now. My kids long since fast asleep.

Brooke ran a hand through her hair. “Okay, so that’s enough time.”

“Enough time for what?”

She moved closer to me, completely naked, all that glorious, creamy skin calling to me, and she wanted to talk. A half smile tipped her lips. “We always talk about what I like, what I want to do, but what about what you want?”

“Hm?”

She skated her hands down my chest and stomach to tug at the elastic of my boxer briefs, as if my dick wasn’t confused enough as it was. “I want to hear your fantasies. What do you like in bed? What have you always wanted to try?”

My jaw loosened, every possible thought escaping my brain in the moment.

“You always give me what I want. I want to give you what you want,” she went on, and I turned, hanging my legs off the side of her bed. She followed, kissing my shoulder. “You can tell me. You know I won’t care. I won’t judge you.”

“I know. It’s…” I shook my head because I’d never been asked that question before. Our dating pact had basically morphed into sex lessons, and it wasn’t like I didn’t need them. I did. I wasn’t at all experienced in terms of…kink. I had no idea what I liked. So I told her, “I like what you like.”

She sent a shiver down my spine when she breathed a laugh against my ear, and I grabbed hold of her ass cheek, squeezing, eliciting a halfhearted protest. Which really meant give me more because she nipped at my ear. I squeezed again, and she whined my name.

I kissed her. “What do you want me to say, honeybee?”

The little minx coiled herself around me, settling on my lap, her hot pussy rubbing over my cock, and I sucked in a breath, seizing her hips. “Tell me what you want,” she ordered in a siren voice. “Tell me your fantasy.”

Staring down at her naked breasts, swaying with every roll of her hips, and feeling the heat of her… I was done. “I want to use you.”

She stilled. Her brows high.

“I want to tie you up and use you. For whatever I want. However I want.”

Her top teeth sawed into her bottom lip, and I held her chin between my thumb and forefinger so she’d stop. Only so I could then trap that lip between my teeth. I tugged on it, at the same time I plucked at her nipples.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, what?” I asked, my mouth against hers.

“Let’s do that.”

I tipped my head back. “Really?”

“Yeah. I trust you. You trust me. So, yes, use me.”

I swallowed the boulder in my throat and stood with her in my arms, walking to the foot of the bed, where I deposited her back down to consider my possibilities. Her headboard was plain white with wooden slats. Usable but not super sturdy. I would know since I put the IKEA bed frame together myself when she’d purchased it a few years ago. She’d bought all her bedroom furniture to match. Farmhouse chic, she’d called it.

“I need cables or zip ties or something,” I told her, and she slapped her hand over her mouth when she snorted.

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