Page 295 of Filthy Elites

He shakes his head, his thumb stilling on my face. He slides it over and grazes my bottom lip, sending a thrill straight through me. “No,” he says. “I don’t want to be cruel to you.”

He dips his head. My heart thunders. His lips meet mine, and it’s like I’m not even breathing my own air anymore. I’m melded to him as he pulls me against him, holding my body close and backing me toward the bed.

I kiss him back, but I keep my hands to myself. It’s the hardest thing in the world when I want to touch him. I want to slide my arms around his waist and hug him, or wind an arm around his neck to pull myself up to his height.

Because I don’t, he breaks the kiss and looks down at me, his eyes slightly narrowed.

I don’t want the trouble that comes with him, but I can’t deny wantinghim.

“Get on the bed.”

My heart drops at his command.

I back up until the backs of my legs hit the soft material of my bedding, then I sit down and scoot back toward the middle.

Dare walks to the edge of the bed and looks at me, then he pulls off his hoodie.

I’m frozen as the T-shirt underneath rides up a little to show a swatch of his toned abdomen. The tease makes my body warm, but then he reaches back, grabs the T-shirt, and pulls it off, too.

Oh my god.

Tension gathers between my thighs. I shift awkwardly on the bed, unsure where to look. I want to look away because it feels somehow rude to stare, but he’ssobeautiful. His eyes are dark and hooded, his body a work of absolute perfection. His chest is smooth and muscled, his abs cut like he belongs on the cover of a fitness magazine. He’s too beautiful to be real, and far too beautiful to be here, in my bedroom.

He looks at me as he reaches for the button on his black jeans.

I’m not sure if I should say something or wait and see what he does. I didn’t even really say he could be here, let alone undress in my bedroom.

“Can I tell you a secret, Aubrey?”

I nod.

He pulls down his zipper. “The first time you turned me on was the night you nearly drowned. When I was holding you in my lap and you were struggling to get away from me.”

My heart beats in my throat.

“Is that fucked up?” he asks, letting go of the zipper.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I was moving around on your lap, so your body probably got confused.”

He shakes his head slowly, kicking off his white sneakers. “No, I wasn’t confused.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say, unsure how to respond to that.

I suck in a breath as he pushes the jeans down past his hips, then steps out of them and stands there in just a pair of stark white boxer briefs.

Holy shit.

Finally, he climbs on the bed. He comes toward me and I don’t know what to do, so I start to scoot away to make room for him.

Quick as lightning, he grabs my hips and drags me down, forcing me on my back on the bed. I gasp as he climbs on top of me, straddling me, then braces his hands on the mattress and looks down at me.

The dark look in his eyes makes it hard to breathe.

“It was the struggle I liked.”

My eyes widen.

“I liked that you were trying to get away from me and I wouldn’t let you.”

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