Clay lays me down on his bed, his arms loosening around me when my back hits the soft fabric of his sheets. I panic, wrapping my arms back around his neck so I can pull him closer. I’m so out of it, and right now, having him close is the only thing that makes sense. He lets me pull him to me, so close our foreheads almost are touching, his eyes the only thing I can see. They’re full of concern as they search my face, checking to make sure I’m okay, and my heart skips a beat. This caring side of Clay is one no one, including me, gets to see very often. It makes it that much more disconcerting when he shows it.
His breaths against my mouth become shallow the longer we stay in this position. I watch his eyes darken as a myriad of thoughts go through my head. Between his bed and his body, I’m surrounded by his scent. This ending to the night was not the one I envisioned, but having him so close to me, spending so much time together, makes the lines drawn between us blur. I’m no longer sure if he’s the asshole guy who torments me every chance he gets, or the hot guy who protects me … even when protection is the last thing I want.
Before I can get my equilibrium, his mouth brushes mine, so light I almost think I imagined it. I gasp, my back arching and bringing our bodies closer together. The contact makes him gasp too, and our mouths touch once more. This time, his tongue darts out to trace along my bottom lip. My arms tighten further as he presses the top half of his body against mine.
Reality intrudes, and I wonder, should we be doing this? Is this what I want? Then, Clay’s tongue touches mine and every thought in my head evaporates. Unable to focus on anything but the sensation of his tongue exploring my mouth, tangling with my own before he retreats. I automatically follow him, tasting the inside of his for the first time. If someone had told me that the first Mitchell boy I would kiss would be Clay, I would have laughed in their face. But, here I am, Clay’s hands on the bed, on either side of my head, his arms taut as they hold him above me.
The kiss deepens, and Clay’s body moves as he toes off his shoes before climbing up on the bed to hover above me. My legs fall open, letting him move between them. His body lowers onto mine and now we’re touching from head to groin, his erection against the part of me that clenches at the feel of him pressing into me.
Clay’s mouth leaves mine, traveling along my jaw until he gets to my ear where he sucks the lobe into his mouth, biting down gently. My arms go lax at the exquisite feeling, sliding down the side of his neck until my hands find purchase on his shoulders. He tugs a final time on my ear before his mouth moves lower to press a kiss just behind it. My nails dig into his shirt and his body shudders above mine, prompting a delicious feeling between my legs.
Before I can register the motion, he rises up on his knees, grips the back of his t-shirt in one hand and pulls it over his head. He drops it over the side of the bed and pulls me up to a sitting position to grip mine by the hem. Pulling it slowly over my head, he drops it down as well, leaving me clad in only bra, jeans and panties. Clay’s eyes travel from the top of my head to my breasts, where they hesitate for only a few seconds before his hands slide along the sides of my face, tunneling through my hair to tip my head to the side. His mouth descends on mine, and he thrusts his tongue back inside my mouth, more forcefully than before.
This kiss is totally out of my control. His hands on my face move it from side to side until I’m in the position he wants me in. Clay’s mouth is greedy, and he presses it harder against mine until I’m lying back against his pillows. All I can feel is the sensation of his mouth on mine, his bare chest touching my almost bare one. It makes me long for more. I arch my back, struggling to undo the clasp of my bra awkwardly with one hand. Noticing what I’m doing, he takes one hand from my face and runs it down my arm and around to where I’m struggling with the clasp. It takes him less than a second to undo, and then he uses both hands to slide the straps down my arms.
All too soon, I’m bare from the waist up. Before I can overthink things, his mouth leaves mine to place lingering, sucking kisses down my throat. He lingers briefly on my collarbone, then continues his kisses down my chest and between my breasts. His fingers trail up and down my arms leaving goosebumps in their wake, and it’s so many different sensations—featherlight touches and wet kisses. I don’t know which to concentrate on. As his mouth kisses underneath first one breath and then another, my breath hitches and I want to beg him to focus his attention on my nipples.
Clay continues to tease me, his kisses coming closer, but still so far away from where I want him the most. “Please …” The word is less than a whisper, more a breath of sound, but he hears it.
His head lifts, his mouth curved up in the smirk I normally hate so much. Right now, it’s so sexy I can barely breathe. “What do you want, Kitty Kat?” I stare at him, unable to vocalize what I want, and his smirk turns into a full on grin. “Is it this?” He takes one hand and cups my breast, running his thumb across my nipple, which tightens further at the attention. Holy shit! My mouth drops open, and I gasp. “Maybe this?” Using his index finger and said thumb—which ohmigod just shot sparks straight to my groin—he pinches it, tugging lightly. I moan, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment at just how loud the sound is in this quiet room.
He releases me to chuckle quietly, then lowers his mouth so it’s just above the tight point. “I know. You want this, don’t you?” Before I can respond, his mouth surrounds my nipple. When he sucks, I swear, I think I lose my mind. Just that small action blows any other sexual experience out of the water and now I’m panting. My hands come up to grip his biceps, and I can feel them trembling as he moves to repeat the move on my other breast. The cool air in the room touches my wet skin and I shiver. Clay brings the hand he used before up to cup my breast again, plucking the nipple with his fingers as he uses his teeth to softly bite the other.
“Oh Clay,” I sigh, pushing into him, wanting more of this delicious torture. His right hand flattens on my stomach before resting on the button on my jeans. He lifts his head, and his eyes silently ask if this is okay. I nod and whisper, “Yes.”
Clay flicks the button open, then slowly drags the zipper down. I close my eyes, having a moment of panic over what panties I’m wearing, but I went out prepared tonight, determined to show Clay, Max, Becca, and everyone else that I’m not some scared little girl. When he tugs my jeans, my eyes fly back open to see him watching me, waiting for me to make the next move. I lift my hips so he can drag them and said panties down my legs.
Then, I’m lying naked beneath him, while he’s still half-clothed. He runs his hands up the inside of my thighs, spreading them wider and staring down at the apex. I squirm uncomfortably, but when his eyes snap back up to mine, I freeze. He runs the tips of his fingers up my hips and across my stomach, just above my core. This time, I tremble, but it’s not in discomfort. I need him to move his fingers lower, to touch me.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he trails one finger straight down, over my mound, then my clit, and I jerk. He moves lower, his finger sliding through skin that’s slick with the desire he’s creating within me. When that finger just barely enters my body, I begin to shake. It glides inside me easily. I’m embarrassingly wet, but he definitely doesn’t seem to mind. First one enters, then two, and I’m strung taut as a bow. I feel like I might shatter any minute.
It’s not like I’ve never had an orgasm, but this feels nothing like the ones I’ve given myself with either my fingers or the little silver bullet Anna gave me for my birthday. This feeling is intense, like three of those orgasms rolled into one. Clay bends his head to suck my nipple into his mouth once more, and that’s it. I can’t hold it off. My orgasm explodes inside me and my eyes close. I’m unable to concentrate on anything but the pleasure coursing through me. My eyes grow heavy, and those feelings are the last thing I remember.