Fix Her Up

“Try to sound a little less innocent while I get you off,” he rasped beside her ear, catching her lobe with his teeth. “How about that?”

“Yes, Travis.”

This name she’d said thousands of times in her life sounded entirely different in a threadbare voice with the insides of her knees resting against his rib cage. Head to toe, she trembled, turned on by his expert abrasiveness, her belly hollowing on a long shudder, her toes curling, nipples peaking. God help her, there was something kind of hot about Travis’s self-directed anger. This man had a will of steel and the focus of a world-class athlete, but apparently he’d lost a battle with himself over her. Her. She couldn’t turn off the excitement, no matter how hard she tried.

“Yes, Travis,” he echoed, shifting his hips slowly. Making her squirm. “Why weren’t you agreeable all those times I told you to go home?”

“I’m selectively agreeable.”

That smart-ass comment earned her a rough punch of his hips. “Look where it got us. You had to keep reminding me how nicely you grew up. Now we’re halfway to fucking.”

Oh my God. Her head spun, Travis’s face blurring into two, then fusing back together. Was she seriously supposed to have a conversation while this gorgeous, filth-spewing man rocked between her thighs? “I told you to go home once, too,” she said in a rush. “I left you alone. This isn’t all my fault.”

She’d thought the hard kisses Travis was giving her were mind-blowing, but the slow one he laid on her just then had her seeing stars. “The quiet got too loud once you’d come and gone.” Another long kiss that left her gasping. “How dare you.”

Before she could address that, he reversed their positions. Her equilibrium spent a few seconds off kilter, her body yearning to be pressed down. Hard. And she might have said something to that effect out loud, because Travis cursed and closed his eyes, hands flexing on her hips.

“Move up a little, baby girl.”

Baby girl. She loved when he called her that. Probably because he winced every single time, like he couldn’t control the endearment. Her knees inched up the bed and she settled in again on Travis’s lap—“Oh.” She fell forward, catching herself on his shoulders. “Th-that’s . . .”

“Mmm.” He lifted her up with his hips, bouncing her once. “Feel my cock, Georgie?”

Uh, yeah. The giant appendage that made Georgie feel like she was sitting on a full aluminum foil roll? “Yes, I feel it.”

His big hands smoothed down the cheeks of her backside, sending a crazy intense ripple down her middle, culminating at her sex. “Close your eyes and do what you want with it.”

A whimper wrenched itself from her throat. “I don’t know what I want to do with it.”

“Yes, you do.” His arm came up fast, his hand wrapping around the back of her neck to draw Georgie down for a slow, wet kiss. “Virgin or not, you’ve thought about riding this dick or you wouldn’t have dropped your skirt for me. Tell me I’m right.”

Oh, she’d thought of it only about four hundred thousand times. “Y-you’re right.”

He gave an openmouthed groan. “Then ride it so I forget touching you makes me a bastard.” Travis’s hands found her bottom again, fingers sliding under the edge of her new panties to get a good grip on her flesh. “Maybe you need a little help.” Breath coming fast, he began rocking her up and back. And Lord. Lord. She’d consoled herself for years that her vibrator was as good as any man, but she’d been wrong. There was no substitute for feeling a man’s arousal against her thin, wet panties. Or hearing him grit a curse when she angled back and pressed her clit to the denim fly of his jeans, rubbing shamelessly, as she was doing now.

She wanted to see more of him, so she dragged his T-shirt up to his neck and exposed his abdomen. The bunched pecs decorated with flat brown nipples. Why pretend not to appreciate the sight when it was obvious, by her pumping hips, that she appreciated his physique very much? Travis knew how his body affected her, too. It was there in the glazed eyes he locked on her. He dragged his tongue across his lower lip and flexed his stomach for her, making his pecs jump. Holy. Sweet. Jesus. Yeah, there was still some of the cocky man left behind and he was bananas hot. Her whole body felt fevered and alive, watching the ridges of his muscles dance just for her. But even as she gripped his huge shoulders and worked herself on his fly, the orgasm continued to hang in the distance. Just out of reach.

“Come on, baby girl,” Travis gritted. “We’re on the same team. We both want to get rid of our aches. Need to take care of yours first, but those little hips of yours have got me real fucking close.”

Oh God. Oh wow. That admission almost did it. Almost teetered her over the edge. She was making Travis have an orgasm. And despite her inexperience, she’d seen enough of the internet to know men didn’t usually climax with their pants on. That had to be good. Her thighs were trembling violently and the flesh between her legs clenched, clenched, but didn’t give that final almighty spasm. Why? Why? She couldn’t help but close her eyes and picture Travis above her, pressing her down. Demanding control of the situation. Of her.

“I see you,” he rasped. “Dammit, Georgie. You had to be exactly what I need, didn’t you?”

In a split second, she was on her back, with a big, horny man taking up her whole world. Filling every available inch of her vision. Caging her in. He jerked down the cups of her bra and sucked her left nipple into his mouth. Georgie cried out. A sticky, zapping ball of wicked energy gathered in Georgie’s midsection, tightening, tightening. She couldn’t breathe or think. Was that her whimpering Travis’s name?

“You like me on top, don’t you, baby girl?” Travis’s hips rammed into the cradle of her thighs, his erection finding and pressing right where she needed, all while this man released an unforgivable and amazing stream of filth beside her ear. “Whining and shaking on top of me, showing me how hot you’d be to fuck, but baby girl can’t seal the deal on her own. Can you? Need to be held down and told to come while I’m riding your pretty panties, don’t you? Well, go on.” Travis worked his hips in a rough figure eight, coming back to land on Georgie’s most sensitive area. Eyes clenched shut, sweat dotting his brow, Travis powered through a quick string of thrusts, the movements so close together and rough, Georgie’s teeth clacked together. “Telling me you don’t know what to do with my cock. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you need it used on you.”

“Use it on me,” she pushed through numb, trembling lips. “Need it.”

Travis’s moan hung in the air as he lunged for her neck, dragging his tongue up the side, pressing his teeth beneath her ear. Her wrists were jerked up over her head and pinned and it happened. An earthquake. Her orgasm obliterated her, twisting her loins like a pretzel and squeezing while her legs fought for purchase against the overwhelming nature of it.

“Christ, Georgie. Look at you. Feel you.” Travis’s mouth pushed into her hair, his lower body continuing its slow, insistent grind against hers. “Watching you come so sweet in my bed. What the fuck am I going to do now, huh?”

With her flesh seized up and pulsing through the most intense climax of her life, she was incapable of answering, but one train of thought plowed through like a piercing whistle. Please him back. Please him back. “Travis,” she managed, dropping her legs open and circling her hips. “You need me.”

Sexual pain slashed across his face, his body growing rigid. “Baby girl. I pump against this pussy one more time and I’m not coming anywhere but balls deep. Those panties are history. You hear me? You see how fucked up I am?”

“Yes . . .” Was this normal? Did his control always snap eventually? It was too much to hope for that it only happened with her, but she could pretend. She could pretend she was the only thing standing between Travis and insanity. “Find a way,” she breathed.

If Georgie took one thing away from her first sexual encounter, it would be that she’d only scratched the surface of herself. Yes, her fantasies had always been rough in nature and she’d never been able to achieve an orgasm without imagining that gradual release of control, but when Travis sat back on his knees and flipped her over onto her stomach, the sensation of handing herself over to Travis robbed her of common sense. Her orgasm had ebbed, but this desire to please him seemed almost . . . mental. Like she could hear and answer his thoughts and needs with her body.

Georgie watched through tunnel vision as Travis leaned over her back and removed something from his nightstand. She’d never seen him like this. Jaw clenched, muscles bunched. Tense. So tense. His erection pushed against the fly of his jeans, looking painful. He’d fully removed his shirt and a light sheen of sweat covered his shoulders and stomach, turning her on all over again. My God, he’s almost too sexy.

That was her final coherent thought before Travis moved behind her again. A tick of the clock passed. Two. And then his fingers slipped beneath the back panel of her silk high-cut bikini briefs, gathering the material together between her cheeks. Tugging. Some might call it a wedgie, but she’d had her fair share of those and this . . . was not like one of those. Just the knowledge that Travis was touching her underwear made Georgie grow damp all over again. Once the purple silk was gathered at the center of her backside, those rough hands moved to her flesh, molding it with a grunt.