Page 88 of Between the Lines

“Every day, Claire. Every hour. I can’t get you out, but sweetheart, I don’t think I want to.”

And then he lifts. One hand stays buried in my hair and tugs while the other sneaks beneath my left thigh and clutches it against his hip.

“Be a good girl and bring up the other one for me. I want to wear these sweet thighs around my hips.”

I do as he says, but not because I have a choice. The second my legs are wrapped around his lower back, he grunts, and settles his cock right up against my pussy. We both moan at the contact.

“Been dying to hear you come again, Claire. You’re ready for it too, aren’t you sweetheart?”

I nod, biting my bottom lip, and he just starts moving. His cock is strained up against his joggers in a thick tent, and he’s effectively fucking me through our clothes. And the sad part is? He’s going to have me to orgasm in under a minute.

It’s so hot. Pinned to a bookshelf, dry humping this man whose words wax poetic while his body rides mine dirty.

While one hand holds my waist steady, the other returns to my throat, his thumb back to my pulse. I’m about to lean into it—yep, I definitely like it—when he pauses. His hips continue rutting, but his head tilts in question beneath those stone green eyes.

Asking permission.

Doesn’t he know that I’m powerless to say no in his hands?

“Please,” I gasp, knowing he’s going to ask me for my word. He applies the lightest pressure at my throat, and I moan, clutching his waist, gripping his T-shirt as I moan,“Harder,Nathan, I’m going tocome.”

He grunts, rutting against my center as his grip on my throat tightens.

“That’s right, Claire, you come for your man.”

His hand is around my throat and he’s dry humping me through our clothes, but it’s the,your man,that does me in.

Holyshitdo I like the thought of possessing him.

I explode. His hands haven’t touched anywhere below my waist, and my pants are still on, but I amruined.

“Fuck, yes, sogood,” is all I can manage in stuttered gasps. I cling to him, my hips meeting his, chasing the sensation that zaps along my nerve endings, better than my own fingers have ever done. I’m panting in stuttered breaths by the time his hips stop punching between my legs, and he loosens the grip on both my throat and my thigh until my toes touch the ground.

I slide down the front of his body the whole way, my handssqueezing his pecs before sliding up, landing on his shoulders so that I can push up to kiss him.

It's slower, but the passion has doubled. My tongue tangles around his. One hand slides up into his hair. He wraps both arms around my back and squeezes, and my hard nipples rubbing against his chest are sensitized enough to maybe send me into another orgasm. The room is filled with nothing but our panting, moans and grunts and squeaks, until he pulls away, and I begin to protest.

But then, Nathan Harding falls to his knees. I swallow.

“What are you doing?”

That precise, methodical man returns, delicately sliding my leggings down my legs to leave me in the black, lacy thong I threw on just in case. He tilts his chin up at me and smirks.

Nathan Harding. Smirking up at me from between my legs. Possibly the world’s eighth wonder.

“Cleaning up my mess.”

I don’t have time to react, because he presses that smirk right up against my thong covered pussy, and his hot breath renders me speechless.

“This is soaked, Claire.”

He sucks me, right through my underwear, then presses his tongue over my clit. All the while, his chin stays tilted, eyes on mine. My jaw is slack, eyes drooped. I sink a little lower, letting the bookshelf hold me up, as Nathan shifts my soaked thong to the side and runs his tongue along my seam.

He eats me like a man starved, taking his time with the meal he’s been offered. He strokes me languidly at first, long strokes from the front to the back, carefully avoiding my clit no matter how my hips squirm beneath him. I lace my fingers into his hair and tug, trying to guide him exactly where I need him when he pulls back and slaps my clit.

And like, in retrospect, maybethatwas what I wanted instead?

“Impatient girl.”

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