Taming Lily (The Fowler Sisters 3) - Page 24


“Only if you promise to ride me when you’re finished,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Deal.” I smile and he withdraws from me, lying on his back, folding his arms behind his head as if he has all the time in the world.

Oh, this is going to be fun. Never taking my eyes from his, I tear into the wrapper slowly, pulling the rubber ring out and tossing the trash onto the floor. He smiles at me, sucks in a harsh breath when I run my free hand down the center of his firm chest, scraping my nails against his skin as my fingers travel down, down … past his navel, tangling in his dark pubic hair until I’m encountering his giant cock.

“You’re big,” I tell him.

“The better to fuck you with,” he says with a mock leer.

A giggle escapes me. I don’t giggle. Not for real. I put on acts, laughing with guys like they’re the funniest thing ever when they are so … not. But this man, he might actually have a sense of humor hidden beneath that rough and rude exterior. “Like the big bad wolf?” I ask.

“Oh yeah, princess. Do I need to start calling you Little Red?” He grins and I shake my head, fighting my smile.

“I think you’d like that. Me pretending to be the scared little girl hiding behind my cape while you chase after me and finally take me down,” I taunt him, noting the way his eyes heat as he stares at me.

“I already caught you.” He grabs hold of my wrist, stopping me from stroking his cock. “Put the condom on.”

I do as I’m told when he lets go of my wrist, my fingers shaking as I fumble to slip the circle over the head of his cock. He watches me the entire time, making me nervous, and I lift my gaze to his as if seeking approval.

By the satisfied smile on his face, I think he likes my obedience. And for some strange reason, I like that I pleased him. “Come here,” he whispers as he drags me over his body so I’m straddling him, my legs draped over his hips, my pussy poised just above his cock. I can feel him nudge against me, teasing my folds, and I grip hold of his shoulders, closing my eyes as I brace myself for his welcome invasion.

Within seconds he’s giving it to me, his ragged exhale making my entire body clench in anticipation. “Look at me, princess,” he murmurs.

My eyes flash open and he tilts his head, indicating I should look down. I do so, all the breath rushing out of me as I watch his cock slide slowly inside my body. I move in closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, his face at my throat as I start to ride him.

He feels good. So big and thick, invading me completely. The man knows just what he’s doing, too, flexing his hips and pushing deep as I rotate and shift, making sure he hits all of my secret spots. His lips are damp, his breath hot on my neck, and I tilt my head back, squealing when he sucks on the skin right at my pulse at the base of my neck. His hands are on my hips, guiding me, holding me still so he can lift his hips and thrust deep inside my pussy, and a shuddery moan escapes me.

“You like that?” he asks and I nod, too overcome to speak. Too afraid I’ll say something and ruin it. So I keep my lips shut, letting my moans and my whimpers and my body do all the talking for me.

“You’re tight as fuck,” he continues, his voice raspy as he starts to pick up the pace. “Squeeze around me, princess. Let me feel you.”

I clench my inner walls around his cock, pleasure rocketing through me when he groans. I like the way he holds me down. I like how tight he grips my hips, how brutal his thrusts are. He’s using me and I love it. I want to be used. I’m the one who’s always using, who’s always entertaining and putting on the show, and I’m so fucking sick of it.

I just want to be free. To fly. To lose myself and let this man do whatever he wants to me. I just want … to feel nothing.

And everything. All at once.

Tilting my head, I curl my fingers into the damp hair at his nape and pull his head back, sealing my mouth over his. The kiss is a wreck, smashed lips and seeking tongues and nipping teeth, but I love it. He reaches between us and palms my breast, nimble fingers working my nipple as his cock works my body and his mouth works mine. Our bodies are slick with sweat, I can hear the squeak of the box springs as we move and bounce on the mattress, and when his hand slips farther, his fingers brushing against my clit, I almost lose it.

“Sensitive?” he murmurs against my lips. His touch becomes more purposeful, his finger tracing over my clit again and again, and I can feel the orgasm building. I don’t want to come yet. I want to savor this. Enjoy it. The way his cock moves inside my body, the drag and pull as he thrusts again. And again. And again …

“Oh God,” I gasp just as my orgasm hits full force, even stronger than the one he gave me earlier. It vibrates just beneath my skin, rippling through my veins, settling deep in my body, and I clutch him close, my mouth at his ear, my panting breaths in time with the spasms taking over me.

Still he continues to thrust, his own orgasm coming soon after mine, his entire body going so still I lift my head, staring into his eyes just as the first wave sweeps over him. His hand grips the back of my head as he pulls me in, crushing his mouth to mine. I swallow his groans, run my hands over his shoulders and back as if I can soothe him through the shudders and the gasps and the moans.

Not that I really want to soothe him. I’m not fooling myself into thinking what we just shared is something … more.

This is nothing. Just one night of terrific, hot sex. That’s all it can be. I’m not built for relationships, for caring about someone. I’m too selfish. Daddy’s told me that time and again.

Tags: Monica Murphy The Fowler Sisters Romance
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