Page 56 of The Lies I've Told
“Were you this appreciative the other night? Or are you making up for your drunken haste?” I asked, doing a little exploration of my own as my hand found the bare skin under his T-shirt.
Hello, abs. I smiled.
“I wasn’t that drunk,” he said, and my brow lifted in challenge. “Okay, I was, but at least I wasn’t drunk enough to skip over the good stuff.”
“And what’s the good stuff?” I asked, looking up at him.
He grinned, a full-faced sort of grin that made a small dimple appear in his left cheek.
How had I not noticed that before?
“You’ll see,” he replied.
Before I had the chance to question him, I was lifted off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his hips as he moved toward the bed.
“If you put me down on that nasty bedspread, I swear, I’ll kill you.”
He laughed but managed to toss aside the tattered thing before throwing me down beneath him. My dress pooled around my waist, exposing my lace thong and bare stomach. I watched as his nostrils flared and eyes darkened in response.
“See anything you like, Aiden?” I smiled.
“Simply remembering all the things I’ve done between those legs,” he answered, his voice raspy and full of promise.
Oh…my.
His hand reached behind his back, and in one swift movement, he pulled his T-shirt up and over his head.
And I forgot how to breathe.
All those smooth, hard muscles I’d felt under his shirt were now on full display, and I didn’t waste any time in checking him out.
“Damn,” I muttered.
“You said that the first time, too.” He grinned.
“It’s still true,” I purred. “Now, what were you saying about my legs?”
He watched as I made a show of slowing spreading them apart, his eyes narrowing, brimming with desire. Never looking away, he hastily unfastened his belt, the clank of the buckle hitting the floor in mere seconds, soon followed by his jeans.
He stopped short, leaving his boxer briefs on as he climbed onto the bed.
“Always the melter,” I said, grabbing hold of the waistband of his boxers and letting go with a snap.
He grinned, his body aligned above mine as he lifted my dress higher and higher. “Always the cruncher.” I felt his hands on the delicate lace of my bra, sliding the fabric aside. Cool air brushed against my nipples as his eyes met mine. “Although I guess I could see the appeal, digging your teeth into something,” he said just before he bent down, licked a wet circle around my areola, and gently bit down.
Every part of me suddenly went ablaze as he pinned me down, sucking, licking, squeezing, and then repeating. My thighs were bound so tightly together, I felt like a grenade, ready to explode.
And he knew it, too.
He knew, one single touch to my clit, and I’d go off so long and hard, the whole state of North Carolina would hear me screaming his name.
“Not yet, love,” his breathy voice whispered in my ear.
I nearly whimpered when his mouth left my tender nipple, trailing a path down my stomach to the top of my panties. His fingers curled around each side and tugged.
Watching him slide that thong down my legs?
So fucking hot.
