My Wicked Heart (Wicked Poison 2)

Hands catch me before I hit the doorway, and he taps me on my ass before I feel him come up behind me.

“You are something different,” he whispers and turns me around. He’s gentle with me, but I want him to be rough. I want to feel his hands sliding all over my body firmly and forcing my lips apart as he kisses them. Instead, he leans in to kiss me, his hands now falling to my hips, one finding its way between my legs. His kiss is soft.

I’ve been kissed many times in my life. I’ve had sloppy kissers, hard kissers, and soft but gentle kissers. But the only one who has managed to kiss me the way I like is August.

And I hate that he has ruined me for all others.

No matter how hard I try not to, I hate that I compare every single man who touches my body to him.

It’s unfair, really, because Holden seems like a good guy. A decent man. Someone I would like to date. Someone I could potentially fall for. Maybe.

We both drop onto the bed, and he is careful not to put all his weight on me. His mouth doesn’t stop as he keeps kissing me, his hands now on either side of my hips, abandoning between my legs.

I pull away between kisses, and he pulls back too. He lifts off me, takes off his trousers, and puts on a condom before he falls back onto me.

He’s a decent size, and I’m excited, nervous. All the emotions are running through me simultaneously as I feel him position himself between my legs. He looks down at me, and I smile up at him.

He goes to speak, but it’s not the words I need right now. It’s movement. I need to feel. I lean up, my lips touching his as I pull him down, so his body is entirely on top of me, and I buck him with my hips, letting him know to move and that I need him there.

When he finally does, he stops kissing me, but our lips are still touching, and I am the only one doing all the kissing.

He makes a weird noise when he is fully seated inside me. It’s something between a grunt and a scream. I pull my lips away to see his eyes closed, and his mouth is open in the shape of an O.

“Arghhh,” leaves his mouth, and he opens his eyes to look down at me. “That was…”

I stare at him, confused.

Did he just finish?

No. No way.

He only just…

“Do you need me to finish you off?” he asks.

Oh. My. God. He did finish.

What the ever-loving fuck?

“I’ll be fine,” I tell him.

That’s a complete lie.

“It’s been a while since … you know.” I feel sorry when he says the words as he pulls out of me and lies next to me, disposing of the condom.

“Oh, sorry, me too. How long?”

“A month,” he says before his hands run down his face.

A month.

What the fuck?

I sit up and try not to shake my head.

“I may get going. I have to do a few things for work.”

“You sure I can’t make you stay?” His hand settles on my back, I turn to look at him. “Just for a little while longer?” he asks. I look down to see his cock becoming hard again.

“Only if I’m on top,” I say because I really want to get fucked. He smirks, reaches over and grabs another condom, putting it on, then lies back.

I move so I can climb on top of him, and before I do, I reach for his cock and give it a light stroke. He makes that O shape again with his mouth as I climb up higher and position myself over him.

“You’re so hot.”

Hot? That shit makes him sound like a teenager, but I take it anyway.

Sliding down on him, he starts to make those grunting sounds, so I take the lead, hoping to get something out of this for me, as it seems he already has. His cock is a decent size, and I start sliding, moving my hips back and forth. He brings his closed fist to his mouth and bites on it, but I don’t stop my friction. I need it. Oh boy, do I need it. I reach down for his hands and place them on my breasts. I also need contact. I want contact. He grabs them but doesn’t make any move to do anything with them. When I glance down, I see his eyes are closed, and he’s lost in concentration.

My body doesn’t stop moving, even when I feel he’s almost there. It wants to reach that state of pure bliss. It’s been so long since I’ve reached it with a man and not a toy—it’s just not the same.