Page 21 of Smith

This was a risky game we were playing and it was about to level up to the danger zone.

“We’re good?” I asked.

“If you mean, am I clear about what this is and what this isn’t then yes, we’re good. Though I’d be better if your mouth was on mine and your hands were on my ass, or alternately?—”

I didn’t need her to instruct me where to put my hands. Instead of informing her, I wrapped one arm around her waist and the other went low to palm her ass. After that, I used my mouth to silence her.

Electric.

That was my first thought and only thought.

Not only the kiss but the way her hands on my chest spiked the electrical current running through me. She tasted like mint and broken dreams. And for the first time in many years I wished I was the kind of man who could commit, who could keep a woman and make her safe and happy. With every stroke of her tongue against mine I felt the regret of my past. The kiss went from desperate to frantic and demanding. Hands tugged at clothes, buttons were snapped open—hers and mine. It was a frenzied rush to see who could get who undressed first. I gave up on getting her jeans down and just shoved my hand down and in. Hers stilled on my hips.

Slick.

Hot.

Tight.

Aria groaned down my throat and born down. She needed no encouragement to fuck herself on my fingers. When she moaned again, I gave her more, adding my thumb to her clit.

Good Christ, she was perfect.

Wanting to see her come more than I wanted my next breath, I broke the kiss. Her cheeks were tinged a pretty pink, her eyes were unfocused, and her lips were wet and puffy from our kiss. She’d never looked more beautiful.

“Smith,” she breathed, and rocked her hips, taking herself closer.

“Beautiful, Aria. Ride those, baby. Get there.”

In the worst possible timing, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Aria’s eyes widened, some of the lust fading.

“Don’t—”

I rolled her clit harder and shook my head.

“Shirt up, tits out.”

Aria swayed back enough to follow my demand, pulling her tank top up, exposing a hot pink bra. I had half a second to contemplate how sexy the pink lace looked against the creamy swell of her breasts before she yanked the cups down. I bent deep, pulled a puckered nipple into my mouth, and drew in hard before pulling back to use the tip of my tongue to tease the tight bud.

She arched back and groaned her approval.

I shifted to move to the other side but paused when her hand slid down my pants and wrapped around my dick, tight and possessive like she owned it. My cock twitched, liking the idea too much.

“I’m gonna…” she let that hang.

Her hips jolted before she tensed and mewled her orgasm. I tilted my head, my gaze lifted to watch her face and I found her staring down at me. Eyes half-mast, pleasure stark, satisfaction leaked in as she rode out her climax.

I was instantly addicted. I wanted more—more breathy groans, more of her confidence, more of her smart-ass mouth. I wanted to sink inside her, taste her, watch her take my cock andlisten to her moans turn into screams. I wanted to watch her tits bounce while she rode me. I wanted to mark her as mine.

My phone vibrating in my pocket pulled me from my insanity.

“Not yet,” she purred.

I didn’t have time to comprehend what she meant before she dropped to her knees. Unfortunately, this meant I lost her pussy. Not so unfortunately, she freed my dick as she went.

Time stood still as she started stroking. But it wasn’t until the tip of her tongue darted out and licked the bead of come from the tip of my cock that the outside world ceased to exist.

“Mmm,” she hummed and tipped her eyes up.

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