Page 55 of The Tomboy and the Captain

I breathe in sharp, and Cutter’s soft laugh tickles against my cheeks.

“Yeah, my mom too. You can still back out if you want to,” he offers. I roll my head against his to signal no.

“I’m in,” I assure him.

The pad of his thumb runs along my bottom lip again. I open my mouth and he slips it between my teeth. I bite down softly and close my lips around the tip, sucking as my eyes flutter shut.

“Good.” I’m not sure if he means that in response to me being all in or to my not-so-subtle hint that I’d like him to touch me now.

His hand falls from my face and I lift my chin until our mouths meet. I take his bottom lip between my teeth and tug lightly as my tongue paints across his skin. He lets a deep moan hum in his chest and I feel his dick growing hard under the pressure of my thigh.

I shift to sit on his lap and face forward, centering his hard-on against my ass. Within seconds, his hands claw up my stomach, bunching my tank top and bra over my breasts. His lips suck at my neck as his thumbs rub against my hard nipples, and when he rolls them between his thumbs and index fingers it sends a bolt of need between my legs. I sink into him, wanting to feel his hard cock against my ass. It flexes against my weight and the sensation makes me wet.

“Touch me,” I whisper, turning my head enough to catch his mouth with mine. He nips at my bottom lip as a smile grows on his mouth and a gravelly, sinister laugh leaves him.

“I am,” he reminds me, pinching the hard peaks of my breasts with more force, sending more waves of pleasure through my body. I’m pooling between my legs, desperate for him to ease the growing ache.

“Not there,” I plead in a soft moan.

“Tell me where. Show me.” His dominant dirty mouth turns me on even more, and I cutch at his wrists and guide his hands down my body until they land on my button and zipper.

“Say it,” he growls at my ear.

My breath shudders and chills run along my bare, exposed skin. I undo the button of my jeans for him, and he takes over, slowly dragging the zipper down. He tugs my jeans a few inches lower on my hips as I grind my ass against his hardness. When his fingers pause at the lace trim on my panties, I squirm, desperate for his touch.

“You have to say it, Laney. Tell me what you want.”

I groan and rock my hips before giving in.

“Touch my wet pussy, Cutter. Please,” I beg.

He wastes no time sliding a hand beneath my panties and cupping my swollen center. His fingers splay out over my wet skin and he slides them over the most sensitive spots again and again until I’m writhing. That’s when he dips a finger inside and I arch my back against his chest and whimper.

“Fuck are you wet,” he says.

“Uh huh,” I nod.

He starts to work me with one hand while his other pinches then flicks the raw tips of my breasts. One finger becomes two, and I welcome the stretch as he pushes inside me then presses a thumb to my clit. I’m on the verge of coming when his mouth clamps down on my neck and his teeth tease at my skin. If he were a vampire I would willingly let him drink right now. I want to feel him everywhere. I want the sweet ache, and I never want it to end, but I’m going to have to come now. I’m too far gone to stop it.

I writhe on his lap as he pummels me with his fingers and licks at my neck. His hand claws at my breast, holding it with apossessive touch that locks me against his touch as I fall over the edge and waves of pleasure roll through my body.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls at my ear, rubbing his thumb through my slick skin as it pulses against his touch. A deep moan escapes me as he forces me to take every last burst of nerves firing between my legs and deep into my body.

I’m limp in his hands and on his lap by the time my orgasm finishes, but I want more. I want all of him.

I slip my hands behind me and feel my way to the button on his jeans. I work it open and draw his zipper down, finding him bare underneath his pants.

“You’re so hard and hot,” I moan, lifting myself up enough to allow my hand room to palm his shaft. It flexes under my touch. It makes me crave him inside of me. I squeeze him in my hand and his hands grab my biceps and hold me still. His lips graze against my ear and his breath is hot.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop,” he says, his voice a gruff whisper.

“I don’t believe in quitting,” I challenge, stepping up from his hold and turning to pull my shirt and bra over my head.

His tongue peaks out and he begins to shake his head slowly as I strip for him. I work my jeans down my hips first, stepping free of them so I’m wearing nothing but my white lace thong. I start to pull it down my hips, too, but Cutter sits up sharply.

“No, leave it. I have plans.” He stands from the chair, and I take a few steps back toward the wall of patio windows.

Cutter glances over his shoulder toward the front door and the stairs, checking our privacy I assume.

---