Play Rough (Black Rose Kisses 2)
Eventually, it becomes more about the pleasure of kissing him than anything else. The pressure of our lips grows harder, our breath mingling in the space between us. His hands are on me, one of them sliding up into my hair and threading through the strands to hold on tightly.
I move closer, making a soft noise of encouragement while I sweep my tongue against the seam of his lips, teasing him into parting them and teasing my tongue with his. He chases it back into my mouth, and he kisses me like he wants to lay his own claim there, making me breathless and shivery.
My heart is pounding, but for once, it’s not with anger or fear. There’s something so relieving about being able to leave those emotions behind for even just a second, to let myself give in to the connection between me and Rory.
He bites down on my bottom lip, and I moan for him, shifting closer. Pleasure is a damned good distraction from the darkness of my thoughts lately, and I take it, pulling back so I can pant for breath.
I’m still not close enough to him, though. Unable to stand the inches of space that separate us, I throw caution to the damned wind and climb onto his lap.
Rory laughs, and it’s a low sound that almost feels like a physical touch as the tension heightens between us.
“Eager?” he teases me.
“Nah,” I taunt back, my voice husky. He grins widely.
As if calling my obvious bluff, he reaches up and untucks the corner of my towel, sending it unwinding and dropping down to the floor, exposing the fact that I’m still completely naked from my shower.
He groans at the sight of me, feasting his eyes on my body for a second before his hands get in the mix. They’re big and calloused, proof that he’s definitely worked with them before. The rough pads of his fingers feel so damned good on my chest, and I can’t help but moan when he strokes them over the soft skin of my tits and then hefts each of them in his hands.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs.
“Me, or my tits?” I shoot back, breathless.
“Both.” Rory chuckles, then thumbs the peaks of my nipples, making them tighten even more.
“What is it…” I start, and then break off with a little moan when he takes one nipple between his thumb and finger to pinch and twist it, tugging it away from my body and making me arch. “…with men and tits?”
“They’re soft.” Rory grins wickedly and pinches my other nipple as well, sending a jolt of heat through my body. “And when I do that, you make the best sounds.”
He’s not even wrong. I can feel myself getting wet, my puss
y going slick and needy, just from him playing with my tits. He lets up on the pinching, smoothing the slight bursts of pain away with gentle stroking that has me panting after only a couple of seconds.
My nipples have always been sensitive, and just the way his fingers tease at them has me rocking in his lap, moving so I can spread my legs and straddle him properly.
“I should have known you’d like this,” he murmurs, those green eyes dark with desire as they flash up to my face quickly. “A little pain with your pleasure. Just to keep it interesting.”
He punctuates that by twisting my nipple again, this time harder, and I can’t stifle the cry it draws from me, or the way it makes my body throb with my own desire.
“Fuck, Rory,” I pant, and it sounds almost like begging.
He picks up on it too, his grin turning even more wicked around the edges.
“I know what you want,” he murmurs. With one last soothing stroke, he moves his hand down from my chest, ghosting his touch over my stomach and then further down. “You know what you want, too. Don’t you? I bet you’re so wet already.”
He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond before he’s touching me again, sliding one hand along the mound of my pussy, just on the outside and not close enough to where I want him yet.
I whine softly, and he laughs that breathy laugh but doesn’t make me wait too much longer before he gives in.
Clearly he wants to touch me just as badly as I want him.
Of the three of them, Rory’s the only one I haven’t gone this far with yet. I’m pretty sure he knows I’ve done stuff with both Sloan and Levi, and now that he’s got the chance to have his turn, he seems determined to make it a good one.
His fingers find my wet center, and two of them slide between my folds, finding my clit with ease. It throbs, almost in anticipation of his touch, and when he presses the pads of those fingers into the sensitive button, I moan and let my eyes fall closed, hips rocking against his hand in search of more friction.
“Does that feel good?” he asks, and it comes out sounding half like dirty talk, half like he actually wants to know.
So I nod, because it feels really fucking good.