A Perfect Ten (Forbidden Men 5)

“I don’t know.” The question seemed to take her by surprise. “We could maybe...talk, I guess.”

“We’re talking right now,” I reminded her. When I leaned in and tried to skim my mouth up her jawline, because I just couldn’t stay away, she turned her face to the side and evaded me.

With a groan-like growl, I buried my nose in her shoulder. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked, my voice muffled against her amazing-smelling skin.

“I don’t know.”

I laughed a little derisively. Of course, she wouldn’t know. “Okay, fine.” I lifted my face and stared through the dark in her direction for a good five seconds, my mind completely blank of anything to say.

My wandering hand finally found her breasts. When her nipples hardened under my touch, my cock went from half hard to full-on ready for deep penetration.

I swallowed a moan and shifted my hips back so she wouldn’t know how aroused I was. But I couldn’t stop myself from circling her nipple with my finger, because the damn thing kept taunting me with its erectness, making my mouth water and my tongue tingle until it wanted to do nothing else but lick, and lick, and lick...

She drew in a breath and arched her breasts out to me, loving the attention. I knew she was getting wet, and it made my erection throb for release.

“How old were you when your breasts started to grow?” I asked.

She let out a couple pants before she hauled off and slugged me in the shoulder. “Damn it, Oren.” She jerked up into a sitting position. “That’s not the kind of conversation I was talking about, and you know it.”

“Well, then you better pick the topic,” I snapped back, sitting up too, “because all I can think about is sucking those hard, succulent berries into my mouth and rolling my tongue across them, and then jerking your legs up and diving that same tongue as deep into your pussy as it’ll go.”

She shuddered and started to breathe harder. “You’re fucking hard right now, aren’t you?”

Um, duh. “As a steel fucking pipe.”

“Damn it.” She growled again. “We just did it, like, five minutes ago.” Even as she complained, she pushed me back onto my spine and crawled on top of me to straddle my waist. Then she hovered above me and tucked her thighs warm and tight around my waist. I listened to her fumble and find a condom on my nightstand.

The sound of her ripping it open made my stomach muscles tense in anticipation. Then she gripped me with her free hand and felt her way into slipping on the latex. Once she had me sheathed and she’d positioned herself in place above me, I lifted as soon as her warm wetness settled against the head of my cock. But Midnight Visitor caught my hip, keeping me from plunging into her.

I arched an eyebrow in the dark. “I guess you want to be totally in charge this round, huh?”

She answered me by grasping both my wrists and pinning them to the bed on either side of my head. With a roll of her hips, she guided me inside her. I could’ve broken free; she wasn’t holding me all that tight. But she seemed to like what she was doing, and I sure as hell didn’t mind it.

She began to ride me, and I groaned, arching my back. “Fuck...me.” This was awesome.

Above me, she let out a husky chuckle. Fingernails lightly scraped up my chest to play with my nipples. “What’re the odds that I can make you cry out that other woman’s name when you come?”

“Wha...?” She about made me go cross-eyed by how tight and fast she moved. I couldn’t think about anything else at the moment.

“Are you imagining I’m her right now?”

The woman was killing me. I was getting carried away with how good she felt, and here she had to go and remind me of Caroline? “Shh,” I hissed, reaching up to grip her breasts. “Don’t be weird.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured, as if coaxing a frightened animal. “You can say it. Say her name.”

I gritted my teeth. “I’m not going to fucking say her name.”

“But I don’t mind if you—”

“That’s fucked up. You have to mind. Why wouldn’t you mind?” Hell, I wanted her to mind. If she didn’t care, then this couldn’t mean as much to her as it did to me. And I couldn’t accept the idea that she wasn’t as into me as I was into her.

She slid her hand down my chest, over my belly and below my navel to where, oh Holy God, I think she touched herself. “Because what if...what if it’s my name you say?”

“It’s not...it can’t be.” I shook my head, denying it, even as I reached for her hand, because I had to know what she was—fuck me, she was rubbing her clit.

“But what if it is?” she pressed, drawing me back to that damn annoying conversation. Her voice grew breathier. She had to be getting closer to her release, an idea which made me closer to mine.

“You better not fucking be her,” I gritted out, arching up into her.