Misbehaved - Page 81

“You just now figuring that out, sweetheart?” He laughs, the first real laugh I’ve heard from him in weeks, and I flip him off. “Because I’ve been loving you, Miss Stringer.”

Now, we’re pulling up to Pierce’s driveway. Instead of getting out of the car, he slides his seat back and pats his lap. Wordlessly, I climb over the console, still in the dress I wore to Ryan’s funeral. His funeral. It sounds so wrong. It is so wrong.

The second Pierce’s strong arms wrap around me, I bury my face in his neck, basking in the comfort he’s offering. His hands work up and down my back, soothing me.

“You get to be sad, Remi,” he says gruffly, his lips touching my ear. “You get to be sad. You get to cry. You don’t have to go back to school tomorrow, or even the next day, but after that…” he trails off, grabbing my chin in a silent command to look into his eyes. My glassy eyes lock onto his crystal blue ones.

“After that, you return to school.”

I nod.

“You meet with Holly Tate again to discuss college options before the fall cut-off.”

Another nod.

“You move in with me until further notice.”

I nod—wait, what? Pierce shoots me a look, daring me to argue, and I roll my eyes and nod once more.

“And you’re coming to dinner to meet my parents in a couple of weeks for my dad’s birthday,” he says as casually as he would when discussing the weather.

“Pierce—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“In Orange County.”

“Jesus,” I breathe, dropping my head to his shoulder.

“But right now,” he rasps, lifting his hips and unbuckling his belt. “All you need to do is let me love you. Can you do that for me, Remi girl?”

“God, yes,” I whisper.

“Good girl.”

He unzips the back of my dress letting it pool at my waist, exposing my naked chest, before lifting my dress above my ass and sliding my panties aside. He leans forward, his hot mouth taking my right nipple into his mouth as I lift up and position his cock at my entrance.

I slide down onto his rock-hard warmth slowly, so slowly, welcoming every inch he feeds me. He looks into my eyes, searching, and it feels more intimate than him being inside me. Once he’s fully seated inside me, I start to move on top of him. Pierce grabs the nape of my neck with one hand and grips my ass with the other, guiding my movements. What started as a slow and sensual dance quickly morphs into one of desperation, needing to be so enmeshed in each other so deeply that we’re one entity.

I grind against him, hard but unhurried as our sweat mixes between us. Pierce’s mouth comes down on mine, and his tongue sweeps past my lips. Oh, how I’ve missed the taste of him. Our tongues and bodies move in perfect harmony. We were made for this.

Suddenly, Pierce reaches down and pushes a lever causing his seat to recline and he lies back, crossing his hands behind his head. I grab the handle above his window and lift my hips before dropping back down. I do this until I’m practically bouncing on his lap, and I feel my orgasm building.

“Baby,” he groans, and I know he’s close, too. His hands move to my hips and smooth up the curves of my waist before palming my breasts. He squeezes them and then pinches my nipples, and I feel it straight down to my clit.

The pleasure coursing through me is too much to bear, and I collapse on top of him. One arm wraps around my back and the other one cradles my head to his chest as he takes over, thrusting inside me deeper than anyone’s ever been, literally and figuratively.

This isn’t just fucking.

This is passion.

This is love.

This is healing.

“I’m close,” I moan, holding my ass in place while he pumps into me punishingly.

“Come with me, pretty girl.”

And I do. I come in never-ending waves until my legs are shaking. I’m boneless. Jelly. And still convulsing on top of him.

Tags: Charleigh Rose Romance
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