Want Me (Mess with Me 4)

Does my team feel like I don’t trust them?

“You’re tired, Law.”

I’m not sure if she means that literally or figuratively but in either case, it’s true. At least it sounds like she cares which gives me hope.

“Hold tight. I know what you need.”

I lean back against the couch cushions, relaxing for the first time since I found her gone this morning. She didn’t want to let me in but she did.

Maybe that’s progress.

When I wake up, Anya is gone. I’m stretched out on her couch with my feet hanging off the end. Groggy, I sit up trying to figure out how long I’ve been asleep.

“You’re awake.” Anya appears at the end of the couch.

She’s changed clothes into leggings and a loose shirt. The tight points of her nipples are clearly visible through the material. There is no way she’s wearing a bra. Everything clenches and I glance away hoping she doesn’t notice my instant erection.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Only an hour. I didn’t want to wake you. I figured you needed the sleep. Especially after babysitting me last night.”

She sits on the couch, our legs brushing together intimately. Several tendrils of hair have escaped the hasty ponytail she scraped together at the back of her head. Those tendrils kiss her neck, tempting me to follow them with my lips.

When she turns to say something else, she pauses. Something on my face must give away my thoughts because she bites her lip.

“We can’t.”

“I know.” But even as I say the words my hands reach for her hair against my will. Tunneling through the glossy black strands until I can cup the back of her head with my hand.

The sound that escapes her throat is guttural, a primal call for dominance. It speaks to the deepest part of me, the part that has always reveled in the intense connection we have. My fingers curl into a fist, pulling her hair securely as my lips find her throat. She must have showered because her skin is still slightly damp. I drag my tongue up her neck until I reach her ear.

“Are you still going to ask me to leave?”

She slaps her hands against my chest and for a second I think she’s pushing me away. Then the sharp points of her nails dig into my skin.

“Law, please. Just touch me.”

Never one to let a lady down, I lift her into my lap easily until she’s straddling me. Her legs wrap around my waist as our mouths collide, helping her grind against my lap. She pulls back only to tug the loose T-shirt over her head. My lids fall to half-mast when her perky little nipples come into view. I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Looking deep into my eyes, she takes one of my hands and brings it to her breast. Groaning, I massage and pinch the sensitive tip until she’s gasping my name with each stroke. Turning us until we’re splayed across the couch, I lean down and take one of the tight tips in my mouth, sucking and biting so hard it has to hurt. There’s something frantic about touching her now, everything inside of me screaming to touch, taste, hold and caress her before the opportunity is taken away.

Being underneath me doesn’t take away Anya’s ability to drive me crazy. If anything she takes it as a challenge, canting her hips upward to provide maximum friction. All coherent thought is gone as she drags her pussy back and forth over my erection. It’s the kind of grinding that would definitely turn into fucking if our clothes evaporated.

How can she think she’d find this with someone else? Nothing has ever felt this good.

Those guys she’s going out with just want one thing. They’re willing to say whatever they need to in order to get her out of her clothes. I’m the only one looking out for her.

Is that what you’re doing?

My conscience pricks at me. Just because Anya falls apart whenever I touch her doesn’t mean this is really what she wants. Am I really so different from those other assholes? Maybe they’re saying what they think will get them in her pants but I’m doing what I know will get me there. She’s been clear about what she wants from me and instead of respecting that, I’m using my knowledge of her body to make her temporarily forget.

“Wait. Anya, we have to stop.”

She whines, her lips continuing their exploration of my neck. Her hips don’t stop moving until my hands land on her ass and hold her in place.

“Nooo. Why are we stopping?”

The lust in her eyes almost breaks my resolve. Then she bites my lip and the sting of pain makes me groan.