Page 16 of Pucking Dirty

"Last door on the right."

He immediately locks the deadbolt and then turns toward the hall. Calming lavender wafts toward us, lulling me toward sleep. His lips against mine as we cross into my room bring me wide awake.

I groan, tasting myself on him. Maybe I shouldn't like it. Maybe I should pull back and pretend I don't want more. I don't know. But…I do like it. I do want more. The fact that my taste is all over this man is intoxicating as hell.

I slip my tongue into his mouth as he drags me down to the bed beneath him. We sink into one another, kissing like we can't stop as he yanks my dress up over my head.

I drag his shirt off over his.

"Fucking hell," he breathes, heat blazing in his eyes as he flings my bra off the side of the bed and then bends down, dragging my nipple through his teeth. "Every inch of you is stunning, Emilia."

"You aren't so bad yourself, Whatley." His body is every bit as incredible today as it was last week. Somehow, I missed the hockey-inspired tattoo inked on his left shoulder.

His lips curve into a smile against mine as he rolls us until I'm straddling his chest, my breasts against his pecs. And good lord, I thought he felt amazing pressed against me when he was in his boxers and I was fully clothed, but that was nothing compared to the way he feels against me right now.

He leans up, chasing my lips as he grinds against me. "Fucking hell. I want to feel you dripping all over my cock right now."

"You should definitely do that then," I gasp.

"Yeah? You want it?"

I bravely reach between us, settling my hand over his straining erection. "What do you think, Nash?"

He groans like he's in pain, arching into my touch. Is this agony for him like it is for me? Does every inch of him ache right now like I do? God, I hope so. I want him as wild and desperate as I am…and right now, I feel like I might vibrate apart at the freaking seams if he isn't inside me soon.

I dip my head, my lips landing against the tattoo over his heart. I lick and kiss a trail down his stomach, teasing him until he's growling beneath me like an unruly beast.

"Take my fucking cock out, Emilia," he snarls, his eyes on fire with need.

"Or what?" I blink up at him, pushing him because I can…because he needs to be pushed. He's so damn bossy, so in control. I want all of that unleashed on me.

"Or maybe you choke on it before I let you come again."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Whatley," I breathe, inching down his body until I'm eye level with the massive bulge in his jeans. I hold his gaze as I reach for the zipper, tugging it down as slowly as humanly possible.

"You're desperate to feel my hand against that gorgeous ass, aren't you?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" I ask, slowly peeling his jeans down his legs. "I'm just desperate for you. Have been for a week already. You're even haunting my dreams."

"Oh, yeah?" His lips curve into a deadly smirk. "How hard do I fuck you in them, Emilia?"

"Depends on how sexually frustrated I am when I go to bed."

I delve my hand into his boxers, wrapping it around his cock. My mouth goes dry as I pull it out. Lord have mercy. He's going to split me in two.

"Jesus Christ, Nash," I breathe. "You win the dick measuring contest." I glide my hand up the shaft, fascinated that it can be so damn hard yet so soft and smooth at the same time. It's…beautiful in a way I didn't expect. It looks nothing like a one-eyed dehydrated lizard. He's a beautiful monster, purple veins running up the underside, the broad head glistening with precum.

I flick my tongue out to taste him.

"Fucking hell," he growls, hips arching from the bed again as his tangy taste hits my system. One hand fists around my ponytail, his fingers clenched against my scalp as he loses it beneath me.

The sight of him like this—eyes blazing with heat, cheeks flushed, panting for breath—damn. A girl could get used to this.

I lean forward, sucking him into my mouth.

"Ah, goddamn, baby girl," he moans. "That fucking mouth is heaven."

I have no idea what I'm doing, but I keep going anyway, taking my cues from him. When I suck, he groans. When I run my tongue around him, his hand spasms against my head. I roll his balls between my fingers and his hips lift from the bed again, a string of curses flying from his lips. And when I try to take more of his cock and choke on it, he has me on my back so fast my head spins.

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