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Drunk on You by Harper Sloan (16)

 

 

 

“PLEASE!”

His hand lands against my swollen center again, the sensation stinging through my whole body. I pull at the ropes keeping my wrists bound to his headboard and feel the overwhelming need for more of him cranked up to dangerous levels.

“I’m being lenient, Nicole. Keep it up and I’m going to think you’re purposely not following the rules.”

What the heck did I do wrong? He drops his head back to my soaked pussy and picks up where he left off. His tongue, mouth, and teeth driving me so high I swear I can see heaven.

Rules, Nikki. Focus.

Sir! Why I can’t ever remember that stupid word, I don’t know. Probably my subconscious trying to get more of his hard handedness against my skin. Who would have thought I would enjoy being spanked so much?

When his teeth bite my clit again, the emptiness I feel without him inside me becomes too much to handle. I pull at my bindings again, the rope soft but still chafing my skin with all my thrashing.

“SIR!” I scream. “Please, Sir! I’m so empty.”

He lifts his head, and I look down my naked body at the man between my legs. His bearded chin is wet, soaked with my arousal. His eyes shining with golden swirls of heat as he looks back up at me. I don’t look away. I can’t look away.

“You want my cock, mon colibri?”

I nod my head frantically.

“How badly?”

“Desperately,” I answer shamelessly. “Sir.”

He lifts from his position between my legs, kneeling back between my spread legs. His eyes no longer looking into my face but down at my exposed sex. He keeps looking, breath rushed, and I feel myself growing even more wet from his perusal. When he takes his shaft in his hand, slowly stroking his angry looking flesh, I whine. I’m helpless to keep the sound to myself. I feel like I’ll die if he doesn’t fill the emptiness.

His free hand reaches over, and the binding on my ankle loosens. He switches hands, not losing a beat in his strokes. When the other ankle is free, I have to fight with my own need to keep my legs where he placed them earlier. Wanting to please him just as much as I want him to please me. The turbulent roller coaster of desire flies off the tracks the second he moves and flips me. He jerks my hips up, gently pushing me up to my knees. The binding on my hands giving me just enough slack to have my arms cross without pain.

At the same time as he grabs a fist full of my hair and jerks my head back, he enters me in one long, hard thrust. I scream, close my eyes, and push back just as firmly as he’s pushing in. Just like the last time with him, my mind fogs and I become drunk on the feelings he brings forth with his touch. Each deep thrust bringing me higher and higher.

“Fucking perfect,” he grunts, releasing my hair and grabbing both sides of my waist to keep his thick cock deep inside me.

I wiggle but his hold bruises to keep me still. My eyes close as my core clamps down on him; I’m so close but need him to move.

The roaring of my blood rushing through my body is the only thing louder than the animalistic sounds that leave his mouth when he starts moving, and I come instantly. I feel my body trying to pull his thickness back in each time he pulls away, leaving just the tip of him inside me. When I don’t think I can take it anymore, he pushes in deep and drops his body heavily against my body. His cock twitches, and his groan of completion vibrates against my back.

Encore mieux qu’avant,” he says against my back, pressing his lips to the space between my shoulders. “Encore mieux.”

“That’s it,” I gasp. “I’m getting Rosetta Stone.”

His rich laughter bursts from his lips as his breath bathes my damp skin. I’m sure he thinks I’m joking, but I make a mental note to find the easiest way to learn French as soon as possible. When he pulls out, I miss the feeling of him instantly. He helps free my hands, rubbing my arms after the ropes fall loose and kissing my palms before lying down and pulling me into his arms.

“This isn’t how I thought tonight would go,” he finally says.

I wiggle in his hold, and his arms loosen enough for me to turn. I place my hands against his chest, rubbing the smooth skin while looking into his eyes. His fingers rub circles on my hips. His other arm under my head.

“I’m not complaining.”

“No, you definitely aren’t.”

I mirror his smirk, neither one of us breaking eye contact.

“You were mad outside the restaurant, weren’t you?” I ask, voicing the question that had been on the tip of my tongue since we left. I knew he wasn’t happy. I could see it in the tense way he was holding his body. “You might say you don’t have to be in control outside the bedroom, but that isn’t entirely true, is it?”

“It’s not.”

“Why? I’m not complaining; I just want some help understanding it.”

He shifts our hold, rolling to his back and settling me against his side. His free hand—the one not holding me to him, lands on top of mine, pressing my palm against his chest. The steady thump of his heart against my hand soothes me.

“When Libby and I were growing up, we didn’t have it easy. I guess, it’s my way of making sure I don’t ever have to feel helpless. Mama did her best. She worked so many jobs, and I’m sure that played a part in her being weak enough for the cancer to take over. I promised myself the day she died that I wouldn’t let anyone else be in charge of what happened to my life.”

“That’s a lot to take on, Shane. You know it’s not a bad thing to share the load with someone every now and then.”

The silence ticks by, and for a minute, I’m worried I overstepped. What are the boundaries to this thing? Heck if I know. It just doesn’t feel right not to speak up, trying to get him to let me help him see a different way of doing things.

“If you would have told me that a few weeks ago, I probably would have laughed in your face, chèrie. Now, though, I’m starting to think you might be on to something.”

“Does that mean you’re going to let me take control next time we’re getting hot and heavy?”

“Hot and heavy?” I feel him shake his head. “Fucking cute.”

I curl into him more. “For however long you’ll let me, I’ll be here if you need to discuss anything. I don’t want you to think that because of what we’re doing, I’m not willing to be there for you.”

I let my words settle, hoping he hears the sincerity in them and doesn’t read them as me being needy. I honestly hope that, if this ends tomorrow, he can still see me as someone to count on in his life. I’m not going to lie, though—just thinking that this could end fills my stomach with a lead weight.

“Nikki.” He sighs, pressing his lips to my head. “What the hell are we doing?”

I shrug, the movement awkward with our positions. “No clue, Shane, but at least we’re both on the same boat of confusion here in our muddled waters.”

Nothing else is said as both of us are lost in our own thoughts. I have to wonder if maybe he’s feeling the same way I am right now. Confused. A little hopeful, maybe. Or resigned to the fact that neither of us are really in control while we play this dangerous game.

All I know is, this doesn’t feel even a little fake.

 

 

 

Her body relaxes against me. I keep my eyes trained on the fan, watching as the blades turn, blanketing our bodies with cooler air. Inside, though, I’m on fire. Not because I just came hard—though there’s no doubt in my mind that I just came harder than I have ever before. No, I’m on fire because of the tiny little woman who hasn’t once in almost a month done what I thought she would.

When I thought she would become clingy and start showing up around Dirty, she went silent and avoided me for three weeks. When I thought she would play games and act coy in her attraction to me, she gave me her awkward honesty. When I thought she would be a meek partner in getting my ex off my back, she fought back against her and for me. And when I thought my past would push her away, not wanting to be controlled, it only made her say things that made me question everything I thought about having a relationship and the job that I love.

She’s thrown me for a loop, for sure, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

Do I want her? Fuck, yeah.

Do I think I could walk away tomorrow? Fuck, no.

Do I think she could handle my life? Well, if that isn’t the million-dollar question … and I’m honestly not sure how to answer it. Not anymore.

And even more confusing of all, I’m actually hoping she’s the one in the end to throw all my carefully voiced warnings back in my face.

She stirs, her leg coming up over mine and rubbing the heat of her sex against my thigh, and I wait while she settles. When she finally stops fidgeting in her sleep and I hear my name leave her lips on a breath of air, something shifts inside me, and for the first time in a long damn while, I want something more.

All I know is, this doesn’t feel even a little fake.


Even better than before

Even better