Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline 1)

She groaned.

“Do you want me to fuck your ass, Addison?”

“No?” she said hopefully.

He smiled to himself. “Are you going to safeword?”

She sighed. “No, Fox.”

Reluctant, but biddable. His favorite.

When his slick finger grazed her asshole she gasped and clawed at the crate.

“Shhh.”

She was already clenching hard, trying to keep him out, but gradually the tip of his finger sank into her. He added lube and tried again, and this time her body slowly allowed it.

“Oh my god . . . oh my god.”

He could practically feel his balls turning blue from the sounds she made and her panicked amazement as he started to slide his finger in and out of her. He vibrated it and she shrieked. Fuck, he wanted inside her so bad.

“Are you going to come?”

She gasped and angrily shook her head. “No,” she choked. “Oh fuck . . . yes!” Her body quaked then her ass clamped down on his finger.

Through a haze of his own blinding lust, he eased her through the orgasm, concentrating on his breathing and trying not to let the reactions of her body trigger him into blowing a load in his jeans. When she was done, he withdrew his finger, enjoying the way it made her squeal. Her anus closed immediately, but he lubed the plug, then wriggled and coaxed it into her, pleased at her renewed sounds of arousal. Fuck. He needed to make sure she learned to love anal, because he couldn’t fucking wait to take her ass.

He wiped the excess lube from her bottom with his fingers, then pulled her panties back up, satisfied they’d help hold the plug in place.

“We’re going now, right?” she mumbled against the wood of the crate.

“No. We’re going back out to the club and you’re going to act like nothing is wrong.”

“You fucking bastard,” she whimpered. “I can’t—I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can, and you will. At least you got off. Be grateful you’re not in my position. I’m all wound up with no place to blow. Now, come with me.”

Hesitantly, she tugged her skirt back down and pushed herself up off of the crate. Her eyes were wide and half-crazed, and her hair was tousled. Mascara had smudged under her eye, and she

looked like a naughty, dirty girl who’d just been used. Forcing her to her knees to ease his suffering seemed only fair but she already had enough to deal with.

“Let’s go. While I’m washing my hands, you may want to go check your hair.”

She grabbed her glass and threw back the rest of her now melted margarita.

When she tottered back to him from the restroom afterward, her expression was still dazed. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close, kissing her until she responded, rubbing against him and mewling when he grabbed her by the ass to drag her closer, pressing the plug farther into her.

“Get a room,” a girl grumbled snidely as she walked past.

He broke the kiss before things got out of hand.

“Yes, we should definitely do that. I can’t stay here like this.”

“Sure you can. You’re a tough girl.” He brought her back to the dance floor area and ordered a soda from the server, stealthily passing the woman back her swipe card. They found two seats that had been abandoned, and he pulled Addison into his lap before she could take a seat next to him. Her ass came down hard on his thigh and he held her there even though she squawked loud enough for him to hear even over the persistent throb of the music.

The room was still packed. Strangers pressed all around them, talking to each other and oblivious to the tension between Fox and Addison.

She sulked, but there was nothing cute about the way her tits heaved far too distractingly near his face. He dropped a kiss on the top of one, and her glare came off more as frustrated desire. Her nipples were stiff bumps under the tight fabric of her dress and he really wanted to bite them. Damn. He should have worked off some tension in the restroom, but that was skeevy, even for him.