He grabbed the hem of my panties, and I bit my bottom lip to stifle the cry as he ripped them clean off my body.
“I was jealous. I never get jealous,” he charged, pressing me against the wall and grinding his hips against my bare *. “You make me insecure. Why do you do that, huh?”
I groaned, my thighs aching, the heat between my legs unbearable.
“Because you covet something you can’t have,” I taunted. “And you’re afraid someone else will get it.”
I rolled my hips, rubbing myself against him. Against the only part of him I wanted.
But instead, he slowed, looking at me with mischief.
He leaned in toward my ear and whispered, “You poor thing.” He sounded sinister. “You actually think there are things I can’t have?”
I smiled, tightening my arms around his neck, and brushed my lips across his jaw to hover over his lips. “Make it worth the risk,” I challenged. “Show me how you take what you want.”
He breathed out a quiet laugh against my cheek and palmed my tit, squeezing it possessively.
“I’m burning,” I gasped.
He flashed me a smug smirk, and my * clenched as I moaned, feeling his hand work between our bodies, unfastening his belt. “I’ll make it better,” he promised.
The warm flesh of his cock crowned my entrance, and he slid it up and down my slit to spread my wetness.
“Wait,” I panted, trying to pull off his jacket. I wanted to see his body.
But he slammed his hips into mine, and I cried out, that sweet pain of the first thrust spreading through my belly as he slid into me.
“Oh, God,” I groaned. “I fucking hate you.”
Why couldn’t he wait? I wanted to feel his skin.
“As long as you fucking fuck me, I don’t care.”
He reached down between my legs and hooked an arm under my left thigh, holding me in place, and I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back, as he thrust his cock inside of me again and again, going faster and faster until all I could do was grab his jacket in my fists and hold on for the ride.
He gripped my ass in one hand, while his other wrapped around my thigh, and yanked me to him, demanding that I feel every inch.
The cool, wet air filled with the smell of earth surrounded us, and I heard laughter coming from off in the distance.
People were coming down the sidewalk, and here I was, skirt around my waist, getting fucked by a man I wasn’t even sure I liked.
But – I whimpered, rolling my hips and fucking him back – I damn well liked what he did to me.
“Tyler,” I cried out, my back stinging from the friction of the wall as he thrust into me.
I looked at him, seeing his eyes on mine, and we both watched each other, our lips barely an inch apart as he lowered his forehead to mine.
My * clenched around his cock, loving every inch he put into me and feeling that high every time he rubbed my G-spot.
He bit my bottom lip. “Is that it?” He slid in and out of me, raw and rough. “Do you like how I take what I want?”
The amused tone was so fucking smug, I wanted to teach him a lesson.
“No,” I answered. “You’re being careful with me.”
“Am I?” he repeated, feigning concern.
And before I knew it, he’d dropped me to my feet and spun me around. He lifted my skirt again, and I bent just a little, planting my hands on the wall as he gripped the curve of my hips and impaled me with his cock.
“Ah.” My breathing shook and my legs tingled. “Tyler, God.”
I reached back and snaked an arm around his neck as he pushed me gently against the wall, still driving into me. The rough, cool bricks bit into my chest, and he seemed to realize it, because he placed a hand against the wall for my face to rest on.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head, my orgasm cresting deep inside. “You feel so good,” I said in barely a whisper.
He took my face and turned me toward him, dipping his tongue into my mouth and kissing me long and slow.
I felt my insides tighten and clench, and while his body didn’t slow down, it was his lips that captivated me the most.
Soft, sweet, and gentle with me.
“Easton,” he breathed against my mouth.
I opened my eyes to see him looking at me.
His gaze turned thoughtful. “I’ve been with enough women to know when it’s right and when it’s wrong” – he bit my bottom lip and released it – “and when I have you in my hands, it feels more right than anything.”
I moaned, holding his eyes as I pushed against the wall and backed up into his thrusts.
“I still haven’t felt your skin on mine,” he said, his voice turning harder as he lowered his hands, kneading and squeezing my hips roughly. “And I still haven’t tasted you.”
I dropped my head, struggling to catch my breath. “Please,” I begged, though I wasn’t sure what for. “Tyler, please.”
I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing and I didn’t want him to stop what he was saying, but I knew he should.