Page 4 of Dirty Girl

“I knew you’d be fucking wet for me.” Pulling his fingers from my panties, he brings them to his lips and sucks them clean. I watch with wide eyes as his close in obvious pleasure. My gaze drops to his dick and I lick my lips wondering what he would taste like. Without realizing what I’m doing, my hands reach out and shakily work at his belt. Strong, sure hands move mine out of the way to finish what I started, but he doesn’t go any further to undress himself. Instead he reaches for me, pulling my shirt over my head exposing my breasts, the cool air hardens my nipples. The cool air hardens my nipples as he gazes at me.

Eyes still on my chest, he removes my shorts and leaves me in only my plain, white cotton panties. He takes a step back; his icy blue eyes raking over each one of my curves. I can almost feel his eyes caressing every part of my body they take in. My skin flushes. Overcome with shyness I cross my arms over my chest, hiding myself from his intense gaze.

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he growls. “I want to see what’s mine.”

Slowly, I let my hands fall to my sides, my face heated with embarrassment.

“Good girl.”

My eyes hone in on his tongue as it swipes across his lower lip. I shift on my feet, aching for Jenson’s touch. The heat pooling in my stomach is almost unbearable. A knowing grin spreads across his face, then he’s on me in a flash. His lips eat at mine as he lifts me with no effort and carries me to the bed. I clench my thighs around his waist and wrap my arms securely around his shoulders.

Without breaking the toe-curling kiss, he moves us to the center of his massive bed. My hands tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine. After grappling with the offending material with no results, I change tactics and bury my fingers into his unruly mop of dark brown hair. Finally, he pulls away, kneeling between my legs and reaching behind him grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls it over his head. His skin is deeply tanned and tattooed. His physique is muscular, but not from a gym. No, his muscles are from hard work. It makes me want to touch them even more.

A light smattering of chest hair leads my eyes down to his defined abdominals. The trail of hair picks up again just below his belly button and disappears underneath his waistband. My breath hitches when I take in the large bulge pressing against the dark denim of his jeans.

“Like what you see?” He chuckles darkly. “Nothing like those little high school boys you prance around for.”

My brow furrows in confusion as I try to comprehend the iciness of his tone and his words. Drawing a blank, I shake my head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I respond truthfully.

There are no boys—high school or otherwise. Jackie is the boy magnet. She’s the dark-haired goddess and I’m her nerdy friend. Any boys that come around are here for one thing and one thing only—Jackie. No one gives me a second glance.

“Don’t lie to me, little girl,” he snarls. “I’ve seen those little fuckers drooling over you while you tease them in your skin-tight jeans with those tits of yours swaying and bouncing unbound under your shirts.”

His fingers tweak my nipple roughly causing my back to rise from the bed. My mind is reeling from his words. None of what he’s saying makes sense. Jackie is the popular one. She’s my best friend, but I’ll be the first to tell you she’s a slut. She’s proud of her reputation, although she prefers the term man-eater. Usually, the boys are the ones counting notches, but she’s the one doing the counting and she likes it that way.

“How many of those pricks touched what’s mine?” His voice is a low rumble as his lips surround my nipple before sucking the peak into his mouth. The deep draws of his suction send sharp sparks of pleasure directly to my clit, reviving the ache of desire that had cooled considerably with our confusing conversation.

He releases my nipple with an audible pop. His teeth sink into the curved underside of my breast in an act of possession.

“How many have touched this soft, creamy skin?” He murmurs, trailing his lips and chin back and forth across my sensitive flesh. Goose bumps prickle my skin at the slow scrape of his beard. When he reaches the apex of my thighs, he buries his nose into the soft cotton of my panties and breathes me in, groaning in pleasure just before those icy eyes meet mine again.

“How many know what my pussy smells like?” His voice is a menacing growl as he continues asking, “Tastes like? Feels like as it squeezes their cock like a fist? How many fuckers do I need to kill for touching what’s mine?”

“Zero.” My voice is whisper soft, and full of trepidation.

Eyes round with surprise he looks at me, examining me closely. “You’re a virgin?”

My entire body flushes in embarrassment. I suddenly feel uncomfortable and move my hands to cover my breasts. I turn my head to the side and close my eyes, hiding in the only ways I can with him wedged between my legs.

Stupid, stupid girl. Why would you tell him that?

I’m so caught up in my head that I don’t register his movement. It’s not until his lips brush against my hair, and his hand gently coaxes mine away from my chest that I realize he’s moved. His hand cups my cheek, turning my face to his. My eyes flutter open and I’m shocked at the intense emotion radiating from him.

“Mine,” he says reverently, then he slowly and methodically kisses my skin. Each brush of his lips brands me as his. The kisses stop with a sweet lingering press of his lips to mine.

“Yours,” I easily agree, my heart soaring at the possibilities.

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