Page 52 of Tangled Rose

My lips part, dazed by what he’s doing to me, and I grip his head, fingers clawing in his hair. I can’t stop from grinding against his face.

“You’re so wet. You’re fucking delicious.” He pushes two fingers inside me as his tongue flattens against my clit, applying wet, wicked sensation.

“Oh God.” My leg trembles with the effort it takes to hold me up as I approach climax. I’m hovering right on the edge. My vision is hazy and the sound of my breathy panting fills the room. Beau’s fingers curl just right, and I see explosions as my hips roll, the force of the orgasm making my supporting leg buckle. He holds me upright while continuing to lavish my clit with attention.

Finally it’s too much, and I begin to squirm away from him as I make little whimpering noises. “Beau, I can’t handle anymore right now. Too sensitive.”

He releases my leg, working his way back up my body, stopping to draw a nipple into his mouth.

He picks me up, letting my legs wrap around him as he pins me to the wall, kissing me savagely. The taste of me on his lips is heady and intoxicating as our tongues twist and tangle.

Before long, he has my heart pumping again, and I know I want him. I need him inside me. I want this connection with him. “Please, Beau.”

Setting me on my feet, he picks up one of his T-shirts—pretty sure it was the one he’d been wearing earlier—and tugs it over my head. I poke my arms through the holes. Leaving everything else, we fling the door open and he takes me by the hand, leading me back toward our rooms. When I’m not moving fast enough, he picks me up and jogs with me. This time, we go to his room. He sets me on the edge of the unmade bed, then yanks open the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a couple of condoms and tossing them on the bed.

I peel off his shirt and before I know what’s happening, he has me flat on my back, legs spread open, and is burying his face between them. His tongue slides through my wetness and he licks me everywhere. My engorged flesh sings. And I guess I was already halfway there, because when he flicks his tongue across the delicate skin between my opening and my ass, dirty heat hits me in waves. I don’t know which end is up for several minutes. I moan out my pleasure over and over again.

When I finally am able to make sense of things again, Beau’s looking up at me from between my legs. He turns his head to the side, rubbing his stubble over my inner thigh. He drags a finger through the wetness, and mumbles incoherently.

Beau rises from his kneeling position on the floor, grabs one of the condoms and tears the package open while I sit up and edge back further onto the middle of the bed. He shoves his joggers down his legs and steps out of them. Straightening, his gaze locks on mine as he takes his cock tightly in his hand, pumping a few times.

My gaze flickers down, watching as he strokes from root to crown, then sweeps his thumb over the head, swiping across the bead of moisture at the tip. He crawls onto the bed and holds his thumb out in front of me. I grasp his hand and, with a devilish smile, suck his thumb between my lips, swirling my tongue around and around as the taste of him explodes in my mouth.

He grunts. There’s no other word for it. “Fuck, that’s hot.” He blinks, and when I release his thumb with a pop, he puts that condom on faster than I’ve ever seen someone do it.

Once it’s in place, he doesn’t waste much time. He lowers himself on top of me and I open my legs, letting him fit his hips between. Our bodies line up so perfectly it’s like he was meant for me. The thought of what we’re about to do has me burning up. Everywhere. You’d think after two orgasms I’d be done, but no. I want him inside me, and I want it badly. I tilt my hips, and he stops to grin.

“I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, Lyla.”

“You already have,” I whisper.

He takes my face between his hands, staring deeply into my eyes, and his mouth hovers over mine. We stay like that, breathing each other’s air for several seconds. Our gazes hold steady as he takes himself in his hand, guiding his cock to my pussy.

He pushes inside my body ever so slowly, inch by excruciating inch. By the time he’s fully seated, I’m a writhing mess. Every part of me hums with the pleasure he’s doling out with his hard, thick cock. The feeling of fullness is overwhelming. “Damn, Beau, you are big.” I feel stretched in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever been before.

And it’s setting me on fucking fire.

“Beau,” I gasp, “I need you to fuck me.”

He withdraws and slides smoothly back in. The hint of a smirk playing at his lips makes me grin as he captures my mouth in a soul-searing kiss. “I’ll do anything you want, Lyla. Anything.” He grips my ass with both hands, thrusting faster and faster, delivering so much pleasure to my body, I can hardly keep up. I gasp. I moan. And with every delicious stroke of his cock, he brands me, claiming me as his.

He doesn’t stop, but he does slow the pace once we’re good and sweaty. His lips coast over my body, and his mouth latches onto my nipple, sucking it deep into the wet warmth. His tongue swirls and flicks, driving me mad with desire. With a groan, he releases it only to find the other and repeat. “Fuck, you’re sweet. So sweet,” he growls as he instinctively picks up the pace again.

Beau’s chest glistens with sweat from his effort but that’s the thing about athletes—we’re made for this. I meet him stroke for stroke as he pistons wildly into me, and we drive each other closer to the edge of oblivion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hiss. “You’re going to make me come again.” With a naughty grin, he hikes my leg up next to his side, and I cry out as the change of angle sends sparks skittering down my spine. I moan as my orgasm crests and I lose control. I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t think it’s the size of his dick or even how he uses it. I think it’s the way he makes me feel. Something inside of me breaks wide open. I think it’s my heart.

Oh. Shit.

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