Tangled (Playing With Fire)

Afraid to say anything, afraid to ruin the mood, he kept his mouth shut and scooted closer to her, her knees now in his lap, her legs hanging over him. He rested his hands atop her bent knees, cupping them, her skin smooth and warm beneath the fishnets and then he slid one hand up, nice and slow until it disappeared beneath her skirt. He could feel the very heat of her emanating from between her legs.

Christ, this was tough. Tough to restrain himself, tough not to reach for her panties and tug. But instead, his fingers searched for and found the top of her thigh-high stocking, slid beneath the firm elastic. He heard her sharp intake of breath at his touch on her bare skin, and it twisted him up inside, turned his cock into a rock hard, raging thing.

He pulled the stocking down her thigh, over her knee, across her calf until it was bunched at her ankle. Withdrawing the stocking completely from her foot, he let it flutter to the ground, his gaze lifting to meet hers.

“One down,” he murmured.

“One to go,” she finished for him, her stocking-covered leg shifting in his lap, nudging against his erection.

If she knew what she was doing to him, she didn’t let on. At first glance, it appeared he had no effect on her either. Her expression was calm, her breathing normal, but he saw the darkening in her eyes, the faint rosy flush that covered the skin peeking from the open vee of her shirt.

She was aroused. He bet if he reached between her legs and tested her there she’d cream all over his fingers.

Sweat broke out on his brow, and he shoved the thought firmly from his head. He needed to bide his time, not just trying to cop a feel. He wanted to do this right.

So he could keep on doing it. With her. Again and again and again.

Trevor reached beneath her skirt once more, his fingers trailing, tickling her skin. He swore he heard a muffled giggle. Again, he tucked his grip beneath the elastic of her stockings and tugged, pulling them down until they were completely off, landing on top of the already discarded stocking on the floor.

She wiggled her toes, and he caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye. “Want me to scoot back?”

“Why?”

Scarlett laughed. “I thought you wanted to massage my bare feet.”

“I’ll massage your legs.” He began rubbing her calves, easing the slight knots from first one, then the other, and she tilted her head back, her eyes sliding closed in ecstasy.

Oh yeah, he could watch her all night. The rapturous expression on her face, her mouth pursed, lips parting as a sigh slid from between them. Her feet flexed, her legs flexed and the movement caused her skirt to ride up, revealing inches of the creamy skin of her thighs.

He could only imagine her legs parting for him as he thrust deep. Long legs wrapped around his hips as he plunged again and again. His hands holding her slim thighs apart as he dipped his head and licked her pussy.

“You’re good at this,” she said, knocking him from his dirty thoughts. “You have good hands.”

Not the first time he’d been told that but usually when he was doing something a little more fun than massaging. Not that this wasn’t fun, oh no.

But it was more like exquisite torture.

“I can make it even better.” He slid his hand beneath the skirt, reveling in the silky soft flesh of her thigh. She shivered. He felt the subtle movement beneath his hand, and when he looked at her, he saw the caution, the apprehension shadow her face.

“You shouldn’t,” she whispered. She tried to draw her leg away, but he held firm.

“Let me,” he whispered back, his fingers crawling farther up, closer to her heated pussy.

“Trevor.” Her voice hitched when he brushed his fingers over the cotton front of her panties. “I don’t like you.”

He laughed. Her brutal honesty should’ve hurt, at the very least should’ve pissed him off, but her words only spurred him on. He stroked her, back and forth, slow and easy, pressing harder with his every movement. All the while he kept watching her, his gaze locked on her beautiful face, watching it change as desire slowly took over.

Her lids lowered, long dark lashes casting shadows upon her face. Lips parted, her tongue licked at her lush lower lip and made it glisten. Wet and inviting and tempting him beyond reason.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to fuck her with his fingers and then fill her with his cock.

This woman drove him insane, and he wanted a taste. Just one taste.

“You like the way I touch you.”

Her eyes flared, a rich chocolate brown he could drown in. “You could be anyone touching me like this, and I’d r

eact.”