Gift From The Bad Boy

That mouth was a dark maroon, smeared slightly from the force of my kiss. And those goddamn eyes. No one had eyes like that, no one but her. They were almost translucently grey, and as I looked at her, they flashed with a mix of emotion that I could empathize with. I was feeling the same way—torn between wanting something so badly and wondering how I could have ended up in this kind of frenzy. Wondering whether it might be a bad idea.

But going for it anyway.

I took one step and then I was on top of her. I held the back of her head with one hand and slipped the other under the edge of her shirt to support the lower part of her spine. She was tiny and warm underneath me.

The waiting game was over and the tension had shattered completely. Now, it was a race to see how quickly we could shuck each other’s clothes off. I’d never been so angry at a leather jacket or my jeans before, but all of the sudden they’d became the worst inventions I’d ever come across, and I wanted them fucking gone. I felt the exact same way about her clothes. The sparkling top that had been so captivating just a moment ago was now the goddamn devil, and if it wasn’t off of her this instant, I was going to lose my mind. I gathered a bunch of it in one fist and yanked hard.

Carmen yelped and seized my wrist between her thin fingers. “Careful!” she said in a breathy voice.

“Carmen, babe,” I drawled, “if I don’t get this shit off of you, the world just might collapse.”

She exhaled, halfway between a moan and a giggle. What a sound. Angel music. Reaching a hand up behind her neck, she loosened a hidden knot there and the shirt came tumbling down. I tossed it aside and didn’t hesitate to slip my mouth down her neck and take one of her nipples in my mouth immediately.

She groaned and arched her back as I suckled at her. One of her hands encircled my neck while the other squeezed at the bed sheets and a soft “Oh” trickled between her lips. I started to work at the buttons of her pants, but the thing was too damn complex. I didn’t have enough patience to figure this shit out.

I released her nipple and, without looking up, growled, “Off.” One yank at the button was enough to coax another hoarse giggle from her. She took over, popping the button free and loosening the zipper as I returned to biting and licking at her breasts and the soft skin stretching across her collarbone.

As soon as she had loosened them, I tugged roughly at her jeans until they were halfway down her knees. For now, that would have to do. The light in the room was dim, but it was enough for me to see that she was wearing the tiniest, sheerest, laciest pair of panties I’d ever seen. They were damn near insubstantial. When I touched my finger delicately above her mound, I could feel her heat and wetness almost as perfectly as if they hadn’t been there at all.

“Ben…” she moaned.

I rubbed up and down a few times before deciding I was done with the panties, too. It was time for everything to go. I wanted this girl naked and I wanted it now. No army in the world could have dissuaded me from it.

I stood up and reached to finish tearing the pants off of her. She grabbed my wrist again. When she looked at me, her lips were half-parted and her eyes were glistening wildly. I felt my cock throb hard at the sight of her. Her fingers were so fragile and small, but she was squeezing at my forearms with surprising intensity.

“I want to see you first,” she said. She released my wrists and sat up on her elbows.

Slowly, I straightened up again. I stripped the jacket off of me slowly, letting it fall to the floor. Then, grabbing the bottom edges of my shirt in opposite hands, I pulled it over my head. The moonlight coming through the window hit my chest at a sideways angle, lighting up the peaks and valleys of the musculature across my torso. Each tattoo glimmered.

I paused and let her look at me. It had never meant all that much to me before to be strong. It was what it was—more functional than aesthetic. I was muscular because every now and then I had to beat some punk to a bloody pulp, not because I was interested in looking good for the girls. That was a nice side benefit at best.

But now, I stood in the moonlight and let her drink me in and the reaction it inspired was the last little bit I could stand. She looked at me with the purest desire I’d ever seen etched in her eyes like an ancient engraving. That did it.