Page 91 of Pucking Tangled
He stalked toward her, one slow step at a time, until he was directly in front of her. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over her lips. “I wouldn’t stop you.”
She stood on her tiptoes and met him halfway.
Their kiss started out soft and slow, her hands sliding up his chest to grip his shirt.
He held on to her hips, holding her steady and kissing her like she meant the world to him.
Because she did.
She pressed her body against his like she couldn’t get close enough.
He shoved his sketch pads and pencils aside, then lifted her onto his work table without breaking their kiss. Mia’s knees fell open, and he stepped between them. He pulled back briefly to peel his shirt over his head.
When he reached for the hem of her shirt, Mia smiled wickedly. “I’ve been waiting for you to finally lose control.”
He laughed while kissing down her neck. “Careful what you wish for.”
He fumbled with her shorts, but she lifted her hips enough for him to tug them down her legs, along with her peach cotton thong. He pulled his own shorts down, freeing his cock, and then… nothing.
Waylon let out a string of curses. Talk about piss poor planning on his part.
“Problem?” Mia asked.
“I don’t keep condoms in here.”
He didn’t miss the way her face fell in disappointment when he pulled his pants back up and tucked his erection away.
“Don’t worry. Doesn’t mean I can’t do this.” He fell tohis knees, pulled her to the end of the table, and draped her legs over his shoulders before burying his face in her wet cunt.
Her head fell back when his tongue dipped between her folds. “Waylon!”
Holding her thighs in place, he devoured her like she was his very last meal.
Mia arched her hips and pressed his face even closer as her orgasm rocked through her and his name tumbled from her lips.
When he stood, he grabbed his shirt and tugged it down over her head to cover her. “My room. Now,” he growled, desperate to ease the ache in his balls.
They raced through the house and up the stairs. At the top of the steps, Waylon grabbed Mia and tossed her over his shoulder as he hurried down the hall and into his room.
The door slammed behind them but he couldn’t be bothered to care.
“Bed,” he commanded, dropping his shorts and pulling a condom from his dresser drawer.
She laid down in the middle of his bed and spread her thighs for him, reminiscent of the day he caught her getting off on her own.
“Trust me?” he asked, settling between her legs.
“More than you’ll ever know.”
He nodded. “Good girl. I promise, I’ll never do anything to hurt you, Mia. But you should know I like things rough.”
Her skin flushed. “Do your worst, Waylon. Just make me yours—now.”
He thrusted inside her in one swift motion, not even giving her time to adjust.
“Holy. Shit!” She dug her nails into his biceps and bit her lip.
“Good?”
