Page 57 of The Good Girl (Nashville Neighborhood)

I arched beneath him, flattening my breasts to his chest. He was so warm and hard everywhere.

“Fuck, Sydney.” His voice was pure smoke. “You feel so good.”

His words caused me to clench inside and out, and—holy shit—he felt it. His eyes hazed with pleasure, and my physical ache diminished as my emotional one grew. There’d been a crease between his eyebrows as he focused on me, but when I sighed with contentment, the crease faded.

My first soft moan gave him enough confidence to truly move.

To push deeper.

The bed creaked beneath us as he established a measured pace, and suddenly his hands couldn’t stay still any longer. They coursed over my body, caressing my breasts, my waist, my legs. I followed his lead and let my hands wander over him too. Shit, it was so nice to be able to touch him unrestrained, exactly how I wanted.

“Do you like it?” he mumbled into my breasts while his body rocked against mine.

The sensation was wild and foreign, but . . . “Yeah. Do you?”

Half of a laugh bubbled out of him like I’d asked something obvious, and he playfully nipped at my breast, as if he needed to tease me for such a silly question. “Your pussy is so goddamn tight, it’s going to make me come way too fast.”

I pulled in a ragged breath through my parted lips.

Steam filled the room, squeezing us together and making our bodies slick with sweat. Our kisses were interrupted by moans, and I loved the way his competed with mine for who could be the loudest.

Everything was sprinting inside me when Preston found a new gear. My blood, my heart, my mind . . . they all rushed along at breakneck speed. The hurried thrust of his hips drove me into the mattress, and although it didn’t feel like it was going to be good enough to bring me to orgasm, it did feel good.

Like, really good.

Each sharp movement from him injected me with pleasure.

Abruptly, he straightened to stand while still lodged inside me, taking away the heat of his body. He shifted to bury one knee up on the bed, and it changed the angle, allowing him to slip deeper.

His heavy eyes blinked, and pleasure twisted his handsome face, exaggerated by the shadows of the candlelight. His gaze drifted down the slope of my body to where we were joined, and he made a sound of satisfaction.

“Fuck, look at that,” he ordered. “Look at how deep I am inside you.”

I was shy, but, shit, I couldn’t resist. I lifted my head just enough to peer down and see the way his dick disappeared inside me. It was hypnotic. Mesmerizing. And so erotic my blood boiled in my veins.

Words floated through my head, telling me what a bad girl I was. Letting a guy fuck me who wasn’t even my boyfriend. It was shocking, and the darkest part of me reveled in it.

One of his hands captured my breast, and the other wrapped around my thigh, pulling my leg up so my knee was by his shoulder. I groaned with pleasure and clawed at the silky comforter, enjoying the feeling of him way more than I thought I would. Plus, I loved seeing the emotions play out over his face.

His lips were parted, and his chest rose and fell with enormous breaths as he sawed his cock back and forth, sliding deep. The force of it made my breasts sway and rock, even as I arched and contracted. Sweat built a glossy sheen across his forehead, but he didn’t seem to notice.

His focus was only on me.

And it intensified when he let go of my leg and scooped up the vibrator.

His pace slowed a little with distraction as he searched for the button to turn it on, and when the soft buzz filled the silence of the room, it charged the air with electricity. I’d never used a vibrator before, so I had no idea what kind of sensation it’d bring.

Preston didn’t tease me with it or waste any time. He put the head of the wand right above the place where he drove into me, and as soon as the vibrator made contact, it was shocking, instant bliss.

I flinched, and my hands latched on to his arms. “Holy fuck.”

His tone was sexy and sinister. “You like that?”

I couldn’t answer because the hit of acute pleasure stole my breath. Having an orgasm during sex had seemed impossible when we’d first started, but now it wasn’t just possible—it seemed inevitable.

I squirmed beneath the sinful vibration, which was intense and incredible. My hands smoothed over his arms, caressed his stomach, gripped his hips. My touch was mindless, desperate.

Maybe the head of the vibrator was in his way, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. His pace was unrelenting, tightening the tension in my core. I didn’t know what, exactly, I needed, just that I had all this need, and that he’d be the only one who could satisfy it.

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