Her First Choice - Page 4

She shook her head, her gaze locked with his, her lips opening a bit as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t. It was enough to make his abs tighten as the same magnetic force that always seemed to linger around her threatened to mesmerize him and pull him in.

He locked his free hand around her other ankle and pushed her legs up and apart. He tried to hold her eyes but the allure was too compelling; he dropped his gaze to the magic between her thighs.

Panties. Fuck. But just as a hit of aggravation almost made an appearance it quickly went away as he felt an arrow of ease. Panties were easy to lose; he was glad she was wearing them. He didn’t know why—but he was glad.

But nevertheless, it was time to deal with them before he lost all patience and tore them away. She didn’t need to know he had damn near zero control where she was concerned.

Taking a stabilizing breath, he eased his hands up her silky legs, up her thighs and to her hips where he fisted the material of her boy-briefs in his hands and grabbed hold. His eyes found hers again and a shot of electricity radiated from her body into his. She bit her lip and took a gulp of air; he responded by ripping her underwear down and off before tossing them aside.

She froze as his eyes dropped to her throat. He could see the telltale pulse in her neck; he swallowed hard and then dropped his eyes farther down.

Jesus. He took another gulp of oxygen as he fastened his hands around her ankles again, trying to stop his fingers from pinching into her but knowing he wasn’t succeeding.

Pussy perfection glimmered back at him. Seriously, pussy-fucking-perfection. She was smooth—completely free of hair and her mound was gloriously hot. She looked tight—her lips so sweet and closed that he could see only a hint of the soft pink hole he’d been lusting after for years.

As he looked down, he maneuvered her knees apart another couple of inches—he needed the visual, dammit. Her feminine lips opened wider, the provocative pink hole opening just that much. His guts clenched, his heart rate accelerated—a ferocious feeling of rabid intent gripped him by the throat as a primal need to mate with her and her alone became his sole goal.

He dropped to his knees and put his hands on her, his fingers stretching her inner lips apart. He felt her make a reflexive jerk and he growled a low warning noise in the back of his throat before he lost it completely and smothered his face in her pussy.

****

Whitney almost came off the bed when Ty’s fingers bit into the flesh of her inner thighs. When he swiped his tongue down and then up again, her heart almost stopped beating. She felt herself cream with moisture—not that she needed more moisture. She was already so wet she could feel it dripping down, soaking her.

Her tummy muscles clenched as her hips lifted into his mouth. Shit. Tyler Copeland was sucking her off. Fuck yes. She’d wanted this forever—every damn time she’d seen him around town. She closed her eyes and sank her fingers into his hair. His hair was dark, almost coal black. It smelled so good and was soft and silky and having her fingers in his short locks wasn’t doing a thing to slow things down.

It wouldn’t take long. One thing she loved more than giving head was getting it. And this was something that she would remember for the rest of her life. If only she could have it forever. Her hips lifted again, a stroke of lightning rushing her insides as he continued to tongue her. She whimpered and he growled in response, his finger coming to her center where he teased for just long enough to make her moan and beg. “Please.”

“Please, what?” he hissed out.

When she didn’t answer, because she was incapable, he teased his finger around her again before moving it to her clit and demanding, “What? Tell me what you want.”

“Put it in,” she found herself begging.

But she didn’t have to beg; he conformed to her wishes immediately, his finger coming back to her center and sinking inside, all the way past the tight restrictiveness of her inner muscles.

Her muscles clamped tightly around him. The feeling was ecstasy—pure unadulterated ecstasy.

“You like that, baby?” he growled, his voice so deep and low she almost came, right then and there.

“Yes,” she panted, as another wave of heat rolled through her.

He made an impatient, fevered sound and then she felt his teeth on her clit. She pumped her hips and he began pumping his finger—and it was sheer bliss.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as her hips started moving faster. It was heaven—he was heaven. She’d always known he would be.

He started growling as his teeth continued to scrape against her. Whitney felt a hot rush of anticipation and then a kaleidoscope of colors exploded in her head. “Ty—I’m coming,” she heard herself wail.

His shoulders seemed to grow wider, his strokes stronger. “Damn right you are, baby.”

His tone, his touch, his arrogance pushed her over the edge.

Stars cascaded around her as she felt the wire snap. Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, fuck yeah.

Doing Tyler Copeland was sheer bliss and already, she was afraid she might never want it to end.

****

The sound of Whitney coming damn near did him in. Tyler gritted his teeth and continued to push his finger inside, wanting her to experience a feeling she’d never be able to get from anybody other than him.

Why did he have that thought? It didn’t matter—he didn’t care. He was too far gone to care. He just needed to come.

He needed to come like he’d never needed it before. Not just the need for an orgasm, he felt the need to drench her with his seed—but he knew he couldn’t.

She was just coming down from her high and he couldn’t wait another second. He disengaged as gently as possible, and while she was lying back with a dazed look, he tore off his boots and clothes in seconds and rolled a condom on. The condom irritated the shit out of him when using one had never bothered him before—something else he refused to think about.

She was pink in the face watching him, and a hot bolt of need radiated from his cock to his balls and then back again. He climbed on top, putting one knee on the bed and then the other.

He had a full-on erection, and she’d been staring at it until his face was over hers and prevented her from taking another peek down. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” he couldn’t keep from asking. She looked blind-sided and damn if it didn’t make him feel good.

“Yeah,” she mumbled in a rush.

He couldn’t stop the smile that twisted his lips. Something about this chick made him happy—and horny—always had.

He wrapped his hand around her jawline and lifted her face to stare down into her eyes. “You ready?”

Her chin lifted just that much and he took it as consent. Lodging his knees between her thighs, her pushed her legs apart and mounted her. He brought the head of his cock to her softness and held it there, pushing inside just that much. Tension wrapped around his heart when she moaned and sucked in a breath.

“You okay?” Jesus. She had to be okay. He’d go fucking ballistic if he had to stop.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, her hands coming to his shoulders as her legs wrapped around his hips.

Thank fuck, that was exactly the answer he needed. He slammed his lips onto hers and kissed her long and hard, and then he sank inside with one clean stroke.

Her body arched under his, whether from pain or pleasure, he didn’t know. “You okay?” he forced himself to stall and ask again.

“Yeah,” she answered, holding still underneath him.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He began thrusting, stroking inside and out repetitively, taking on a motion that had her joining him within seconds.

He’d wanted to fuck her for so long, the anticipation almost killing him. But it had been worth the wait. She was perfection personified and he ate it up now, stroking in and out with a rhythm that had him riveted. Fuck. It was good. She smelled sweet—smelled like something he wanted to feast on for a lifetime.

She began mov

ing with him in perfect tandem as the air around them electrified. The smell of sex began to permeate the room, his sweat blending with hers. Fire smoldered down his spine as the need to come became paramount.

He tried to hold out, tried to make her come again but he couldn’t wait—it was beyond his control. He lifted up onto his hands and looked down between them, his cock pushing in and out, glistening with her juices.

His pecs tightened, his tendons jacking up, cording into ropes of iron as lust gripped him and primal instinct took over.

He made a grab for her hands and nailed them to the sides of her head as he stared down at her, never losing a stroke.

Tags: Lynda Chance Romance
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