Page 73 of Be Your Anything
“The problem?” He chuckles, and I gasp as he pinches the tip.
I cross my legs to try to ease how much I ache for him, my eyes closing in response to his touch.
“The problem isyourimpatience.”
My eyes fly open and I glare at him.
“You might have had some of these boys your own age fumble around between your thighs, giving you little tastes of what true pleasure feels like, but I can promise you…”
He leans forward, his tongue licking a long path up my neck before his teeth tug on my earlobe.
“…promiseyou that you’ve been missing out. Every average fucking you’ve taken in the past pales in comparison to what you’re about to experience.”
My entire body shudders.
Lucas doesn’t normally commit to these roles this much. I mean, we’re not actors. We usually give each other a few lines then get to the good stuff, throwing in a few ‘Mr. Pearsons’ here and a few ‘dirty girls’ there.
This time, though…this feels different. Darker. More illicit. Something deeper and more twisted. And I love it.
I’ve always known I would willingly follow Lucas down any path he wants to lead us down as long as we’re together.
I don’t know where we’re going with this, but I can’t imagine it isn’t somewhere completely worth it.
“Now, are you going to make up for that little tantrum on your knees like a good girl?”
CHAPTER15
LUCAS
Lennon takes me by the hand and leads me across the room, out of the kitchen and dining area and into the living room, where the fire is crackling and candles are lit.
Before I have a chance to dictate anything, she gives my torso a little push, knocking me back into one of the gray armchairs on either side of the fireplace.
“You want me to make it up to you?” she asks, the flames that flicker behind me dancing in her eyes.
Lennon’s hands flatten against my chest and drag down to my jeans, which are still unbuttoned from earlier when she pulled the rug out from under me and walked away when we were just about to get to the best part—the part where I sink inside of her.
She slips her fingers under my pants and boxers and gives a little tug, and I lift my hips to assist. My cock, aching for her touch, breaks free from its fabric prison and stands at attention, waiting for her.
Her eyes connect with mine as her fingers trace and dance over me, touching and teasing me to the point where I know there’s no way she’s sorry for her stunt earlier.
“This doesn’t feel like an apology,” I mutter through gritted teeth.
Her palm finally tightens around me, and I can’t help the grunt I let out at the pleasure.
“Maybe that’s because I’m not feeling particularly sorry, Mr. Pearson.” Then she leans forward and licks her flattened tongue from root to tip.
My head falls back, my entire body zeroing in on the wet heat of her mouth as it tortures me, gives me just a taste of what’s to come.
The way I feel when Lennon’s going down on me is…unlike anything else in this world. It’s heavenly, otherworldly, ethereal… Whatever vocab word you wanna pull from high school English and slap on this experience, that’s what it is.
“Maybe I don’t want to be a good girl,” she adds, licking me again, her tongue fluttering up and down on that same trail over and over. “I’m feeling…like a bad girl tonight.”
I try to smirk, to play along as this dirty Mr. Pearson character who apparently likes to fuck college girls and plays golf with her father—a joke and a half since Lennon’s real dad is a loser who left her family when she was a kid—but instead of a smirk, I’m sure my face gives off the impression of a man desperate for her.
Forher.
Because I am.
