Page 54 of The Good Girl (Nashville Neighborhood)

But then the tension in the band was gone, and his hurried hands pulled the bra down off my shoulders. The straps dragged along my arms as he tugged it all the way off and threw it over the side of the bed.

The second I was topless, it was like something inside him snapped. There was a desperate urgency he could no longer fight, and his rough hands seized my breasts. He squeezed and pushed them together, making it easier for him to run his tongue from one nipple to the other.

“Oh,” I gasped at the sharp sting of his playful bite, but . . . was it weird I liked the sensation? I clamped my legs tighter around him, making his hip bones dig into the insides of my thighs. I threaded my fingers through his thick hair, trying to get him to do it again, but I wasn’t fast enough.

Preston was on the move, leaving a trail of hot, damp kisses down my stomach.

My chest rose and fell dramatically as he inched closer to the last scrap of fabric covering my body. I’d never been completely naked in front of him before, and I snagged my bottom lip between my teeth to hold back an anxious whimper.

He backed off the bed so he was kneeling at the end of it, and when I lifted my head to stare down at him, my heart stopped. His expression dripped with so much desire, it was indecent.

It loudly announced what he was planning to do, and promised I’d like it.

But what he didn’t like was how high up I was lying on the bed, so he grasped my ankles and jerked me closer to him. I gasped as I slid across the silky comforter, stunned at the action but also by how much I enjoyed being manhandled.

I could barely catch my breath before his fingers curled at the sides of my ‘virginal’ panties and began to drag the fabric down.

My mouth was completely dry as he peeled my underwear down my legs. I was shrouded in the flickering candlelight and the fading sunlight at the edges of the blinds, but it was more than enough to see me.

“Fuck.” He stilled with the panties clenched in one hand, his gaze fixed on the junction of my thighs. Sex thickened his voice. “Did you do that for me?”

After I’d gotten his text this afternoon, I’d hurried into the shower and shaved myself completely bare. It had been precarious, and taken a lot longer than I’d expected, but it had also turned me on once it was done.

It felt like I was hiding a secret on my body. One just for him.

My shy nod made him groan in approval, and his hands coasted up my legs, moving in a fast, efficient path to my sensitive, newly bare skin. And his mouth followed, inching up the inside of my thigh while gently urging me to open my trembling legs wider.

To make room for him. “You want me to taste this virgin pussy?”

I couldn’t speak. All I could give him was a quick nod.

He dragged it out, teasing kisses at the spot where my leg joined my body while he adjusted his stance on his knees. It was like he was settling in and finding just the right position.

“Oh, shit,” I cried, flinching.

The first hint of his tongue against my clit was an electric shock of pleasure. The second brush of it was more serious, making the sensation more acute. I balled the comforter beneath me into tight fists, needing something to hold on to.

Then his tongue began to flutter.

Every nerve ending in me lit up, sending sparks raining across my body. I bucked my hips, maybe wanting to run from the pleasure, or get him to do it again . . . I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t in control anymore.

A moan poured from my lips, and I promptly slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle it back. It had been too loud and sounded so erotic, it verged on embarrassing. I stared up at the ceiling, too scared to look at him with his head between my legs because who knew what kind of sound I’d make then? The sight would be scorching hot, overwhelming.

“This is what I wanted to do the other night.” The hot, velvet stroke of his tongue ceased only long enough for him to speak. “But you don’t have to be good and stay quiet now.”

I moaned through my fingers and squeezed my eyes shut, just as the muscle deep in my core clenched.

As he fucked me with his mouth, his hands decided to join in. One of them slid underneath my thigh and up onto my hip, while he used the other to press one thick finger deep inside me.

“Oh, my god,” I gasped.

My hands abandoned the comforter so I could drive them into my hair. I bowed up off the mattress, writhing from the pleasurable stretch of my body around the finger he eased in and out of me. His incessant tongue whipped at my clit, and the more I seemed to enjoy it, the faster he fluttered and the deeper his finger went.

It was . . . incredible.

My heartrate was through the roof and my chest heaved, and I pictured what we looked like. How he was bent over the end of the bed with his head between my legs, a finger pumping fast enough it made the whole bed shake, while I writhed and moaned as a mindless, naked creature.

“Fuck,” I groaned as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first. It was a lot, but it felt so good. “Fuck, fuck . . .”

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