Page 272 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

I’m not above begging if that’s what it takes. We’ve now climbed over that wall.

For me, there’s no going back with him.

He sweeps me into his arms and walks into the bedroom. I can tell he’s going to drag this out, probably to be romantic and stuff, which is sweet but not necessary for me.

Setting me on the bed with so much care that I’m afraid he thinks I’ll break, he stands beside me and starts to undress. “You sure you’re up for more?”

“I’m up forso much more,” I say, running my hands over my chest.

I sit up and pull the ribbon holding the straps together on one shoulder, watching his reaction. His body gives him away, his erection growing in his pants.

He cups my face.Damnit.I don’t want sweet.

I know how to spur him on because one thing I’ve learned is that Harrison Decker loves dirty talk. “Do you remember when you bent me over that counter in Catalina?”

“There’s not one thing I don’t remember about that night.”

“I want you to do that to me again.”

“With the mirror?”

“Yes.” A wry grin appears on his face, so I add, “Yes, there’s my bad, bad boy.”

“Not a boy, babe.”

Rubbing my hand over his cock, I reply, “Feels like all man to me.” I pop the snap of his jeans and slide the zipper down. Peering up at him, I lick my lips and then ask, “May I? Just one taste?”

His shoulders straighten, so commanding, so sexy, and he replies, “No sampling the goods. You take it all, or you don’t get any.” He has a naughty mind to match mine. “What do you say?”

“Yes, and please.”

“Fuck me,” he growls, tugging his jeans down.

Why is it such a turn-on to role play with him?

I lie across the bed on my stomach and settle in just as he frees his dick. Bobbing in front of me, I take hold with one hand and then wrap my lips around the tip.

The feel of his fingers dig into the hair at the back of my head, encouraging me, but now that I’m in control, I intend to have some fun. I swirl my tongue around several times before allowing him to push past my lips. He’s slow, calculated, letting me lead and cover the distance with my hand.

The sound of his moans mixed with mine, the struggle he has not to take control of my head, light touches accidentally push, causing me to gag, but only one time. He’s a quick learner, too. I go deep and then tease back again until I find a rhythm that I can get lost in.

His body moves against my mouth, and his breathing becomes labored. It’s not but a few minutes before steady turns erratic, and etiquette goes out the window. He’s guiding me like a missile on a mission, and I take it, every bold inch of him like a hometown hero.

He pulls back suddenly and grabs me under the arms to pull me off the bed. As soon as I land on my feet, he says, “Get the fuck in there and be in position. You have until the count of ten.”

A smack to my ass sends me in the right direction. I don’t need to be told twice. I rush into the bathroom, my ass still tingling, and shove my crap to the far side of the counter. Bending over, I pull my skirt up and then brace myself on the cold marble.

I know for a fact that wasn’t a solid ten seconds, but seeing Harrison enter the bathroom in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes locked on my backside, and smirking . . . my thighs rub together in anticipation.

He takes his time, hands on my upper ass and then sliding lower, two fingers running through my wetness and then rubbing it on his dick. Leaning over me, he kisses my back as he positions himself. “Did you think I’d come in your mouth when I could come in that sweet pussy of yours?”

Dear Lord, thank you for Harrison Decker.

He takes a hand full of my hair and pulls back until my chin is raised. Our eyes are locked in the mirror when he says, “Brace yourself.”

I claw my fingers just as he takes me by the hips and slams into me. I hold my chin high, watching him as his face contorts. Lust. Greed. Gluttony. Pride. Most of the seven deadly sins are hammered into me. But if I search his blue irises, a hint of something softer appears when he looks at me. Like a rose, that same feeling continues to bloom inside me.

Closing my eyes, I try to block out the tenderness and focus on the other sensations I’m feeling. A quiver is felt and begins to spread outward. When I open my eyes, a fogged mirror hides part of him away from me. I reach forward and wipe it away, wanting to see every part of him claiming me.

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