Falling for the Groomsman - Page 11

She buried her hands in his hair and yanked hard. When he hissed through his teeth, she pulled even harder. “Just shut up.”

Lowering her head, she fused her mouth to his, kissing him angrily. He let out a small groan and closed his arms around her. So quickly she didn’t even get a blink in, he rolled her under him, positioning himself between her thighs. He took control from her just like that…and she loved it.

His mouth worked over hers as his hands trailed down her body, all the way to the hem of her dress. He slid his hand up her leg, making her quiver with need. When his fingers brushed her inner thigh, she whimpered and pulled his hair harder. He deepened the kiss and palmed her ass, grinding her against his rock-hard erection. When he rolled his hips, thrusting against her where she needed him most, she cried out. The sound never escaped, though, because he didn’t end the kiss. He didn’t even break contact as he jerked her skirt up high and slid his hands underneath.

When he reached the top of her tights, he growled, curled them into his fists, and ripped them in half, seeming to not even want to take the time to remove them. She didn’t know why this made her so hot for him, but God it did. Her stomach clenched with need, and she ached for him to fill her. To bring her the pleasure only he could give her.

Only he could make her legs shake and her body turn to jelly. He was the one who turned her into mush with a flick of his tongue. Only he did this to her.

He pulled the remnants of her stockings off of her body and slipped his hand under her panties, cupping her butt firmly, sending a bolt of lust to her core. She moved against him restlessly, demanding more. He broke off the kiss and palmed her harder. “You like that?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “God. More.”

He let out a tortured groan, then lowered his body over hers, sliding down her inch by inch. He lifted her dress higher and sucked on her nipple through the fabric. She should stop this right now. Tell him to get off of her and run away before it was too late. This wasn’t the way to get closure.

This was a new beginning, not an ending.

A dangerous one.

But the words that would make him stop making her feel so freaking good melted off her tongue the second his fingers glided inside her panties. He closed his mouth over her breast, scraping his teeth against the fabric again. When he traced her slit, she forgot all about lists or words or thinking.

All she could do was feel.

She spread her thighs wide, letting him in without hesitation. When he thrust a finger inside her, she cried out and arched her back.

“Damn, you’re ready for me, aren’t you? So fucking hot.”

God, she’d forgotten how sexy he sounded when he got turned on. He spoke in such a way that the sound of his voice made her all the more desperate for him. She nodded frantically, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from babbling.

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking.

He slid even lower to his knees, shoved her panties aside, and thrust two fingers inside her. She watched him as he watched her. Or more specifically, what he was doing with his hand. He looked captivated by the sight, and she wished for a second that she could see what he saw. When he twisted his fingers, she cried out.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark and stormy. “Do you want something, Red?”

“God, yes.” She rolled her hips and let out a moan when he moved his fingers again. “I want…I need…you.”

“What would you like me to do?” He slid farther down, so close to where she ached for him that she could feel his breath on her heated flesh. “Do you want me to taste you? Make you feel good? I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I need you and your freaking mouth on me,” she said, grabbing hold of his hair. “Now.”

After that, he didn’t waste a second in giving her what she wanted. He lifted her leg over his shoulder and ran his tongue up her slit before flicking it over her clit. She cried out and dug her heel into the mattress, the other pressing against his back. He closed his mouth over her and sucked, making her legs shake from the sheer intensity.

He deepened the strokes, his hands cupping her butt and holding her up for him. She drew in a deep breath as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. When everything froze and exploded into pieces, he still didn’t stop. He kept a light pressure on her, making her tense up all over again, and come for a second time.

Un-freaking-believable.

Then, and only then, he let go of her. She collapsed back against the mattress, breathing harshly. He leaped to his feet and started removing his pants with shaking hands. For a second, she lay there watching. Wanting, no, needing to see him. But the haze of her orgasm faded away enough for her to remember her plan, her hurt, and what she was supposed to be doing.

And she panicked.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d known she couldn’t be with him, but she’d completely ignored that in the interest of getting an orgasm. In all fairness, it had been an incredible orgasm, but still. She couldn’t do this with him again.

When his pants dropped to the floor at his feet, she swallowed the moan that tried to escape. His erection strained against his boxers, showing his cock off to perfection, demanding to be touched. And God, she wanted to touch so freaking badly. He grabbed his shirt and hauled it over his head, his six-pack flexing with every single motion. His skin was flawless, as was his physique. Hot damn, he was perfect.

She could have him, if she let herself forget…

He reached for the boxers, ready to yank them down. Even though she wanted to see what lay beneath, she knew if she did…she would never be the same again. She shook her head and slapped herself back into reality. She yanked her dress back over her thighs, straightened her panties, and stumbled to her feet.

Thank God she hadn’t gotten naked.

He froze with his hands on his boxers, his hot eyes watching her every move. “What are you doing?”

Even though she didn’t even want to leave, she lifted her chin and edged toward the door. Once she had her hand on the knob, she turned it. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Christine…”

“No.” She opened the door. “This isn’t happening again.”

He followed her. “Don’t—”

She slammed the door in his face and took off running, not letting herself look back or stumble. Jeez, she’d just been thoroughly pleased, and he hadn’t removed anything except her pantyhose. The fact that he was able to make her feel more incredible than any other man ever had when given a compass and a map was just ludicrous.

Even now, after having just left his side, she wanted to go back and crawl all over him. Sheer lunacy. What would it take to break his hold over her? Would she ever get over this incessant infatuation with Tyler Dresco?

Or would he forever haunt her?

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Tyler groaned and closed his eyes tight. Christine knelt at his feet, her glorious red hair brushing ag

ainst his bare thighs. She rolled her tongue over his cock, moaning low in her throat. Fucking magical. “Don’t stop,” he moaned. “Harder.”

She pulled back, and he squeezed his eyes tighter. No, she couldn’t leave him again. Not now. Not when he needed her so damn much. If she ever tried to pull a stunt like that again…fuck, he’d go insane.

Maybe he already had.

He squeezed his eyes shut even more, turning off his thoughts. In his imagination, Christine’s hands worked over his cock, closing over the head and squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. Pretending his hand was hers, he tugged on his shaft even harder, his breath escaping his lips in a whoosh.

In his mind, she closed her delicious lips over him, looking up at him with those blue eyes of hers, taking him in so deep he couldn’t breathe. Looking up at him as if he was the best thing on this fucking earth since peanut butter met jelly. He grunted and arched his hips higher, pumping into his hand. His balls drew closer to his body, tightening painfully, and he knew he was close.

He moved his hand faster, picturing Christine bent between his knees with her bare ass in the air. God, she was fucking gorgeous like that. In his mind, he cupped her perfect little ass and smacked it gently. She cried out, pressing closer and begging for more. Begging for him and only him.

With a tortured groan, he came with an explosive pleasure even he couldn’t believe had come from a fantasy. All from a dream that wasn’t real. He collapsed against the pillow, holding his other arm over his eyes to hide from the sunlight for another minute or two at the very least.

He’d spent the whole night tossing and turning with a raging hard-on. After waking up with his erection even more painfully obvious than when he’d fallen asleep, he’d finally decided he needed to take care of it himself. But he had a feeling even that hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made the discomfort worse.

He needed Christine, damn it.

He yawned, checked the time, and then cleaned himself off from his solo session. Damn it, he still felt like he hadn’t even closed his eyes at all. Of course, it wasn’t every night he got left high and dry by a certain investigative journalist who would probably ask him how he felt when she’d left, taking notes in her little notebook as she nodded her head.

Tags: Diane Alberts Erotic
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