Undercover Engagement (Private Pleasures 5)

“I want to make you feel good.” Swain pushed up onto his knees, hooked his hands under her calves, and slowly uncrossed her legs. “I’ll be careful.” He moved his hands to the waistband of her shorts and watched her, his shadowed face solemn. “Really careful.”

Oh, God. He would be careful. Anyone else, she wouldn’t have risked it, but she trusted him completely with this. With her body. Probably with too much, but that trust had her planting the soles of her feet on the mattress and lifting her hips. He pulled her shorts down, then entirely off, before positioning her legs wide and crawling into the space between them. She felt a little odd, sitting there half-dressed while he regarded her. After a moment, he laughed. “How old is that shirt?”

She looked down and laughed, too, until he began tracing the lettering across her chest with the tip of his index finger. “I… It’s old. High school.”

“Justin Bieber?”

She rested her head against the pillows propped behind her as his finger scrolled over her nipple. “My first concert. I was fifteen.”

He traced his way back through the letters, lighting little fires all over her chest. “You were a Belieber?”

“Were?” She let her eyelids close and simply absorbed the sensations. “Who says I’m not still a”—she had to stop for air when he flicked his fingertip over her other nipple—“card-carrying member of his fan club?”

“Uh-oh. This sounds serious. Did you draw hearts all over your notebooks and write Eden Bieber inside them?” He placed his finger in the valley between her breasts and started drawing a big heart on her. “Eden Brixton-Bieber?”

“Maybe. But Selena was and always will be his one true love, no matter who he’s married since, and I knew it. Stop making fun of me and my one true love.” The V of the heart ended just shy of her clit, making her squirm.

“When you close your eyes, tell me, what are you dreamin’?” Though he sang the lyrics, the amusement in his voice couldn’t be missed.

“I’m dreaming of Justin.” She stretched her body but kept her eyes closed. “Always. In fact, don’t take it personally if I accidentally call you Justin.”

“Ah, I don’t think that’s likely. You’ve been crying my name loud enough to raise the rafters pretty regularly.”

“I was being…polite.” The feel of him pushing the shirt up her torso caused her to struggle with the last word. “But in my mind, it was all Justin…Justin…Justin.”

He gently moved her splinted wrist from where she’d laid it on her leg to the pillow beside her head, then pushed her shirt up to bare her breasts. “Tell you what, choux. You think of anybody you want if it gets you hot. I’m not worried.” Warm breath feathered over her skin. “I know when you come, you’re coming for me. And I guarantee it’s my name in your mind.”

With that guarantee issued, he kissed his way down her body, starting with the inside of her forearm, just above the wrist brace, moving to her lips, her collarbone, the point of one nipple, the underside of the other breast. Beyond the sound of her panting breaths, she belatedly realized he was humming something as he slowly but surely melted her into a quivering puddle of need.

“If I Was Your Boyfriend.”

Seconds later, the humming stopped as he got down to the business of demonstrating exactly what he’d do if he was her boyfriend. Being a gentleman might not be high on the list, but it turned out he would gift an extravagant amount of attention to her clit—tonguing it, kissing it, capturing it between his lips and sucking until she whimpered out loud and lifted her hips to beg him for more.

Eyes open, she levered up onto an elbow to watch his head move between her thighs—watch his hips rock as he humped the mattress. Her inside clenched, jealous he squandered his thrilling erection on the bedding. “Justin…”

He lifted his head and looked at her. “You think I won’t be your Justin, choux? I’ll be whatever you want. Whatever works. That’s part of my skill set, remember?” With his eyes on hers, he eased a finger inside her. Her head fell back, and a grateful sound she had no chance of holding in escaped from somewhere soul deep.

Hand to his head, she moaned, “Thank you, Justin.”

His laugh vibrated through her pussy, pulling another moan out of her, then yet another when he resumed fucking her with his mouth, and his finger, and another finger when she writhed for more. Sweaty, shaky, and suddenly desperate to come in his arms with his perfect cock inside her, she pushed herself up on the pillow and pulled his head up until their eyes met. “I want to come with you inside me.”

“You can come this way.” He kissed her trembling thigh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Oh, God. He was trying to be a gentleman. But she couldn’t take it. “This hurts,” she pleaded, casting pride aside. “It hurts not to be filled with you. It hurts not to feel you moving inside me. It hurts to watch you grind yourself into the mattress when you should be giving all of that to me.”

He stared at her, and silence ruled in the darkened room for one heartbeat, two… “Jesus, Eden. It’s a miracle I don’t come right here, staring into your eyes. Don’t move. Not a muscle. I mean it. You could ruin me with a crook of your finger.”

He backed off the bed, swept his shirt over his head, and dragged his jeans off in half a minute. Then he was crawling toward her again, his big chest heaving, his cock long and thick and jutting toward her like the answer to her prayers. He stopped deep between her thighs, slid an arm under her waist, and hauled her up in one smooth move. She wrapped her good arm around his shoulders to anchor herself. He sat back on his heels and positioned her over his lap. Nodding at her sprained wrist, he said, “Put your elbow on my shoulder. That’s my girl. All good?”

She swallowed and nodded and looked down between their bodies at his straining hard-on. Her insides wept with anticipation. She rocked onto her knees, as high as possible. “Can you…um…”

“You want me to feed it in, choux?” He wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. She nodded again and held herself still and open for him—as still as her trembling body allowed. “I can do it,” he assured her. “Nice and slow…”

He dragged the head of his cock through her center, circled it, and did a figure eight. She chased it, groaning. “Justin, you sadistic tease.”

He pressed his face against the side of her neck and smiled against her ticklish skin, making her shiver. “What’s that you called me?” The arm locked around her shifted, and a big hand spanked her butt.

“Ow. Sadist,” she panted. “I called you a sadist