Cease Fire (Blackbridge Security 9)

“I’m wondering why you’re still dressed,” I tell him, rolling my head on my shoulders to give his exploring fingers more access to my skin.

“I was wondering the same thing when you opened the door. Seems we’re both a little disappointed right now.”

“Kit.” His name gets lodged in my throat because hearing that he may be disappointed in me hits me a little differently than I expected it to.

It doesn’t fit in with my obsession over the praise kink I discovered about myself last night.

“Don’t pout, baby,” he says, pulling my bottom lip from between my teeth. “Undress me and show me that you’re sorry for disobeying.”

The center of me clenches, distraught over being empty, as I nod and reach for the buttons on his shirt.

“Slowly,” he urges, the back of one knuckle skimming over the tip of my right breast.

I lose focus, the sensation of his warmth on my peaked nipple nearly enough to make me beg for his mouth there, but I know we’ll get there, eventually.

My trembling fingers work open each shirt button at a snail’s pace, the backs of my hands ghosting over his chest, and I take a little pride in the way his breath hitches. He’s just as needy for me as I am for him, and that mutual desire heightens what we’re doing.

I have to raise up on the tips of my toes to push his shirt off of his muscled shoulders, my chest pressing to his as my hands skate down his back.

“You have the softest skin, Jules.”

The words vibrate against me as I press my lips to his sternum, wondering how he’d react if I licked at his nipple. Deciding that nothing is off the table until he voices his distaste of it, I turn my head, wrapping my lips around the dark circle.

“Fuck, baby. Yes.”

The appreciation lights me up from the inside out, and the growl when I bite into his flesh sets me on fire.

He wants slow, but all I can think about is him pulling my panties to the side and rutting into me as I come all over his cock. I’m desperate for it.

I pull back, looking up at him as my fingers hastily work open his belt before finding the zipper on his slacks. He chuckles, his eyes lit with humor, but he doesn’t tell me to slow down again. It’s a testament to his own need.

“I’m going to use you all fucking night, Jules.”

Jesus, the way my name sounds when he’s aroused is the best aphrodisiac.

“Okay,” I tell him, wanting exactly what he’s offering.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he kicks off his shoes as I work to shove his slacks and boxer briefs down his muscular legs. I pause in undressing him, taking a moment to let my fingers run down his thighs, appreciating the hair there. He’s so damned masculine, so rough and sexy, that I have to give myself time to accept that right now he’s all mine. How did a girl get so damned lucky?

“My cock is right in front of your face, yet you’re obsessing over the hair on my legs?”

“Just exploring,” I tell him, trying to ignore the drop of precum clinging to the thick tip of his dick when all I really want to do is take him in my mouth and suck an orgasm from him. “You told me to go slow.”

With a grip on my hair that turns me on more than it hurts me, Kit urges me back to my feet.

“We can explore later,” he snaps. “Get on the bed. Knees and elbows, baby. I’m going to show you exactly what this cock can do.”

Of course I obey. We don’t have to go slow and cherish this very moment. He has promised to spend the entire night inside of me, and despite the importance of tomorrow, it’s exactly what I want. I can mainline coffee if that’s what it takes. If I had to choose between exhaustion and amazing sex, I’d choose the sex every single time, especially if it’s with him.

I clench my teeth when he kicks off the slacks and boxers from around his calves and reaches for a condom, wondering just how many he has in that damn wallet of his.

Once his cock is covered, he spends a moment stroking it as he inches closer. I watch the entire time over my shoulder, somehow unshy about being completely open to him.

“What are you doing?” I ask, needy to the point of desperation as he leans down instead of crawling behind me on the bed and slamming into me.

“Whatever I want,” he whispers, a sort of reverence in his voice as he lowers his mouth to my center.

“Jesus,” I hiss at the first swipe of his talented tongue. What is it about getting pleasure this way? It’s dirty and amazing. Getting eaten from behind like this may be my new favorite thing, and his talent is going to ruin me for all others.