Dirty Charmer (The Bodyguards 1) - Page 36

I drive into her. Full and flush. When I can’t get any deeper, I rotate my hips, rubbing back and forth just how she likes it.

Then I pull back and thrust back in. Hard and again, and over and over. I look down, watching how she takes me in—and the view is beautiful.

“Take it,” I rasp, mindless now. “Take it all.”

Abby’s tits bounce with every thrust. Her chin is raised and her brow is damp as she chants and moans. “Yes, oh yes . . . yes . . .”

My hips speed up—thrusting faster. Thick heat gathers low in my gut—building and rising and so, so good.

I press Abby’s hands above her head—our fingers twining.

And then she gasps, chin rising, her pussy squeezing around me in clenching spasms.

“Tommy.”

And she takes me with her.

I drive into her one last time, buried deep as I come and come inside her in thick, exquisite pulses that rip the pleasure through me.

Moments later, I’m still twitching with aftershocks. But I lift my head from Abby’s neck, and brush her hair back from her face.

I dip my head and kiss her lips softly, and I eat up the sweet smile she gives me in return.

* * *

After about ten minutes of lying in bed, when our skin has cooled and our pulses don’t beat like we’re having matching heart attacks, Abby stretches beside me. Her spine curves beautifully, her succulent breasts lifting, her long arms reaching back and her hands pressing against the headboard.

Which gets me thinking about tying them there. That’d be all kinds of fun.

“That was amazing,” she says on a dreamy, languid sigh. “I feel outstanding.”

It’s a tone I’m familiar with . . . but it’s always nice to hear.

“I have that effect on women.” I smirk.

She glances at the bedside clock and frowns. “I have to get home. I have an early shift tomorrow. Well . . . today.”

I roll to my side, bracing my head on my hand, tracing her collarbone with the tip of my finger. “You could stay the night. A first-thing-in-the-morning fuck is the best way to start the day.”

She’s tempted, hesitating, but then shakes it off—sitting up and taking the sheet with her—back to sexy Miss Proper.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

I shrug. “Suit yourself.”

I swing my legs off the bed and head out to the parlor to collect our clothes. But when I walk back in, Abby’s gaze follows my every move, like her eyeballs are long-distance superglued to my flesh.

And I’m hard again—my dick jutting out thick and long and ready to go. ’Cause I’m talented like that.

Abby’s mouth hangs open a bit—the perfect width for me to walk over and slide my cock between those pouty lips. That would also be fun.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” I tempt her—’cause I really think she does.

“No.” She drags her eyes off me by sheer force of will. “Too personal.”

“I fucked you with my tongue until you came, love. I don’t think ‘too personal’ exists any longer.”

Abby shuffles her sweet little arse across the bed, slipping on her dress quickly—and hiding as much of herself from my eyes as she can in the process.

Rude.

“Too intimate, then. This is an arrangement, remember? No entanglements—which means no sleepovers.”

I blow out a breath and rub my hand down my face.

“All right. I’ll take you home, then.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I really do.”

“Tommy, we agreed—”

“It’s the middle of the fucking night, Abby. Any man who would let a woman see herself home in the middle of the night is a first-class tool—and I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a tool.”

I walk around the bed, stepping behind her and zipping up her dress.

“And it’s not about entanglements.” I brush her hair off her shoulder, and scrape her earlobe slowly with my teeth, breathing against her neck. “I just want to make sure you get home safe and sound . . . so I can fuck you again.”

She shivers at my words—the good kind of shiver. And then she nods, seemingly convinced.

And I almost have myself convinced as well.

CHAPTER TEN

Abby

ETTA AND LUKE AND KEVIN were right. Self-administered orgasms are most definitely not the same as orgasms delivered by someone else. And ones delivered by a sex-god bodyguard are a whole new definition of better.

Tommy was—Tommy and I—were nothing short of magnificent. I didn’t know sex could be like that—wild and reckless, yet safe at the same time. And that’s how it felt when I was in his arms, above him and beneath him—safe.

Wanted and protected.

Secure enough to say anything, do anything. Everything.

It was mind-blowing. Eye-opening. Perspective-shattering.

And though a voice in my head warns me to stick to the plan—to not allow myself to be distracted—another bolder, braver voice says I can’t wait to do it again.

Tags: Emma Chase The Bodyguards Romance
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