Page 69 of Mr. Bentley

“What are you thinking?” She asks.

I circle her back with my knuckles, rolling my hand up and down her soft skin.

“How beautiful you are.” It’s not a lie.

“Do you sweet talk all the girls you bed like this?”

I smirk to myself. “Only the ones who run away from me.”

She inhales and lets out a slow breath.

“What are you thinking?” I throw her words back at her.

She takes a moment and then says, “How if we shouldn’t be doing this, then why does it feel so good?”

“Who says we shouldn’t be doing it?” I know she’s right, but I want to hear her answer.

I feel her head lift and she peers up at me. “Probably everybody we know.”

I stare back at her. “What do your friends think?”

She rolls her eyes. “They don’t count.”

I grin. “They’re the ones that encouraged you, aren’t they?”

“Charlize, mainly,” I admit. “Because she’s dirty, with a foul mouth, and she said if I didn’t jump you then she would.”

“Christ,” I mutter.

She giggles.

“Tell me something, Ariana,” I go on.

She bites her lip as I brush the hair off her face.

“What do you think about all of this, really?”

“You know what I think. I bounce back from: we shouldn’t be doing this, to: this is so fucking good, how am I going to stop?”

I love her honesty.

I try, and fail, to hide my amusement. “Summed it up pretty well.”

“It isn’t my fault, in all fairness.”

I caress her cheekbone, loving how her skin is pink and flushed. Though we’re still connected, I need her again, I need her all fucking night.

“Oh?” I reach up and peck her gently, beginning our next round of foreplay. “Why is that? You think you’re so innocent, Ariana?”

She returns my kisses, grinning as I pull back when she wants more.

“Tell me,” I whisper, denying her.

“Because you’re so fucking hot, Mr. Bentley.”

I let her kiss me, and I run my hand down her body and squeeze her ass. She pulls back and shakes her head with amusement on her face.

“What’s so funny?”

---