How to Misbehave (Camelot 1)

She felt so fucking good. Tight and hot, crazy-wet, soft and welcoming and just … just so real. No fake fingernails or fake bravado or fake sighs to make him think he was doing anything to her that he wasn’t. Just her body, the smell of sex on her skin, the way she closed her eyes when he made her feel something new but then opened them again and focused on his face as though she didn’t want to miss anything.

He didn’t want to miss anything, either, and he wasn’t used to being this tuned in. He had no experience with a woman who watched him with wide eyes that seemed to see everything, to see right inside him.

Even as he reveled in the scary strangeness of it, part of him knew better.

He would pay for this.

But his hands smoothed her hair off her face, his mouth kissed her forehead and her eyelids, and he moved as deep as he could get inside her. He couldn’t stop himself from clinging to this scrap of sweetness, from thrusting deeper, harder, when she wrapped her legs around him and encouraged him with little moans and whimpers, saying his name in his ear, making him feel like the biggest fucking thing in the whole universe.

“Amber,” he said. Like an experiment, an acknowledgment that she was who he was with, the woman he wanted more than he wanted to be smart.

“Oh my God.”

“Amber.”

And then he had to kiss her again, because he wanted to say it a dozen more times.

“Holy shit, Tony.”

“You like it.”

“Don’t stop. Ever. I’ll kill you if you stop.”

“Can you come from this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. No. Don’t stop.”

Tony groaned. All the tension and heat gathered in his balls was pulling tighter. He couldn’t make this last much longer, couldn’t think about box office scores or whatever the fuck he was supposed to be thinking about to keep from coming because Amber was wrapped around him, and she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He worked his hand between them. When he found her clit, she dug her nails into his arm so hard, he hissed. “Bad?”

“Good. Do that. Keep doing that.”

So he did, clumsy until he got the thrusts timed against the pulses of his finger, and she raked her nails up his back, the bed creaking hard now, the headboard pounding into the wall.

“I’m going to. Don’t you dare stop, I’m going to come.”

Tighter. Harder. Higher.

He bent his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth, closed his teeth around it, and she clamped down so hard around him that he just about lost consciousness.

“Oh!”

She came like a firecracker, like a whole fucking chain of firecrackers exploding one after another, and there was no way on earth he could keep his shit together, so he let go, let it rush up and overtake him.

He had to close his eyes when he came. God only knew what he said or what noises he made, his hand gripping tight around the iron bar of the bedstead just to keep him grounded in some kind of reality. The pleasure lasted so long that it felt like pain, and she was with him the whole time, clutching his back, holding him close. Saying his name.

When he collapsed on top of her, he barely had the presence of mind to keep his weight braced on one arm, he was so wrung out. Both of them were panting, their breaths lengthening out as they started to come down again, to settle back into their bodies, heavy and limp.

He rested his cheek beside her ear. “How’d I do?”

She exhaled and flung her arms out on the bed. “Motherfucker,” she said.

He laughed. For a long time, he couldn’t stop. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt, and he made a mess with the condom on the bedspread, but she didn’t seem to care. She just kept smiling, and when he finally got himself under control, he kissed her.

Chapter Ten

Her phone rang, shrill and intrusive as a nosy parent.