Page 49 of Roughing the Player
“Please.” No clue what I’m asking for.
But he does. His big hands mold my ass, presses my pussy against his long, hard cock. Hungry for what he’s dishing out, I rock against him, and his cock hits my sweet spot. “Oh, God. Yes.” I groan.
I breathe him in. Hard to say which scent turns me on more—the fresh pine scent of his soap or the randy, earthy male of him. I nibble every inch of skin my lips can reach. He tastes of sin and heat and delicious man.
His arms tighten around me. His hands knead my ass, my side, my breasts. “You’re so fucking hot, Ellie. I can’t get enough of you.”
Returning the favor, I palm as much of his ass as I can reach and squeeze. A thrill runs through me when he grunts in my mouth.
“Make love to me, Brock.”
I don’t have to ask him twice. He rolls me over until I’m lying on my back.
He strokes a finger up and down my clit. “You’re wet.”
And about to get wetter. “Uh-huh.”
“I love your body.”
“You do?” I’m confused. The women he’s gone out with? They were all curvy. Granted, I’m not rail thin, but I have few curves to call my own.
“Yes.” His irises glow crystal bright. He leans in to nip my waist, rasp his tongue over a hip. When he brushes a rough thumb over my sensitive clit, I almost come off the bed.
“Easy, babe.” He lays a strong hand over my trembling belly. “We have all night.”
Yes, that long I can promise him.
He comes off the bed and kneels on the floor. And then he widens my legs and pulls me toward him. I’m spread eagled before him and served up as his feast. His tongue finds my aching pearl. All warm breath, he suckles, gently at first, more insistently when I moan. Oh, sweet God in heaven. Beneath his clever tongue, I writhe, clench my hands on the sheet while I fight the urge to beg for more.
“You’re beautiful here too, Ellie. Such a pink and pretty pussy. He slips a finger into me. “So tight. How long has it been?”
Oh, hell. I’m not ‘fessing up to that. It’s too embarrassing. “A while.” I roll my hips, silently asking for more.
He stops what he’s doing and stares at me. “How long, Ellie?”
I don’t want to share that with him, but he won’t go on until I do. “Law school. Okay?”
“That must have been what? Three years ago?”
“More like four,” I say, peeved about this interrogation.
His brows knit. “Why?”
“I have a kid, Parker.” I huff out.
His smile would make all the heavens in angel sing. And a few devils in hell. “Yes. I know.”
“It’s not like I could leave her alone and go off on a date.”
“I want to apologize.” He pulls out the finger and traces a circle around my clit.
I squirm wanting more. “What for? It wasn’t your fault.” Tired of this conversation, I urge his hand back to the task. “Now, go on.”
He slides the first finger back into me, and then a second. He thrusts gently as if he fears hurting me.
But that’s not what I want. Knowing what he’s capable of, I urge, “Harder. Faster.”
A light glows deep in his eyes, as my panting echoes in the room. I bite my lip to keep from begging him, even though it’s too late.
