Page 90 of You're To Blame 2

I unbuckled his jeans and worked them down his thighs and legs. He kicked them off.

“I love that you wear T-shirts around me. Means you are comfortable in your skin when we’re together. Now, take it off.”

A wide grin curled my lips as I whipped it over my head, revealing my sports bra. Tate leaned on his elbow. He pushed the bra over my breasts and sucked my nipple into his mouth.

“So mine,” he moaned.

Before I knew it, he yanked the bra over my head, chucked it across the room, and pinned my body against the pillows.

“I want to hear you call my name.”

My eyes bulged. “Tate, I will not. Remember what happened the last time?”

He continued freeing me of my clothes. “I do. But I know for a fact...” Tate reached over and glanced at his cell. “...my parents are still at the theater,” he winked.

“You can call my name as loud as you want.”

I bit the corner of my lip. “Tate, I don’t know.”

He stood and dropped his blue plaid boxers; setting his cock free.

I licked my lips.Fuck, my weakness had joined the party.

“Yup, that bastard gets to hear you call my name. Hear you shout out how much you love me. And I assure you I will do the same.” He settled between my legs.

“No more hiding, remember?”

My fingers lingered over his muscled, ripped abs. Slowly, I sat up and bit his neck.

“Are you marking me, Chelsea?”

I snickered. “Maybe. Tonight, I will post on social media I am in a relationship with Tate Forrester.”

I felt his lips lift against my hair. Tate pushed my body down again. His tongue slithered around my neck. The hesitation to be free still lingered. Dark Jack and Jill couldn’t torture us anymore, yet the apprehension was there. I’d grown accustomed to living in secret. Tate caressed my hips then dipped his fingers into my heat. I rubbed his back and swept my lips over his.

The intensity of his fingers circling my clit, held me on the edge. My breath caught in my throat as he sank inside me.

Pleasure encompassed his handsome face. “Fuck, fuck, you feel so good, Chelse,” he groaned.

I feasted on his lips as my fingers dug deeper into his back with each deep stroke he delivered.

“That’s right, baby take it all,” he whispered. His dreamy black locks dangled between us.

“Chelsea,” he moaned.

Tate clutched my ass with one hand and with the other he intertwined our fingers over my head. He leaned down tracing his bottom lip over mine. “I want to hear you, Chelse.”

My brow wrinkled. “No, I won’t scream your name.”

His lips tipped up at one end. “No?”

Tate flipped me over and he sat back on his knees. “I know for a fact this is your favorite way to make love. There’s no way you can keep quiet now.” A dark chuckle released from his throat.

“I want there to be no mistake that they know you are mine,” he bit out, fisting my hair and sinking his teeth into my neck at the same time filling me.

“Fuck, Tate,” I yelled.

His head tilted and those tranquil blue eyes roved my face with each thrust. “I don’t hear you, baby.”

---