My mouth drops open. Why those words turn me on, I’m not totally sure. No one has ever spanked me, and I’ve never really understood the appeal. Until now. His big, calloused hand on my ass. Yes, please.
And then I do something very un-Katherine-like. I lift my t-shirt off my backside, making sure he can get a peek as I peer back at the area like I’m considering it. Then I return my attention to him and lift my eyebrow. “Interesting. But you’d have to catch me first.”
We stare at each other a beat before he lunges, and I jerk away, laughing, until we’re both tumbling toward my bed that groans under our weight. And then the big jerk tickles me.
“Not fair! No, Brady!” I squeal.
He pauses, his breath hot on my neck as he holds me down. “Shh. You’re going to wake the baby.” He rears back slightly to look into my eyes and I’m drowning in the depths of his stare.
The conversation we had this week mocks me. Nostrings sex? Bullshit. It’s all bullshit, a little voice inside me screams.
His lips are closing in. Close, so close. And holy mother, does he smell good. I’m pulsing, my whole body throbbing from how he holds me down. He’s big and hard, his weight pressing deliciously along my soft ridges.
And just as I think he’s going to kiss me, the sexy bastard continues his assault and tickles me.
I gulp down a laugh, and his hand rests over my mouth. Mirth and fire and lust all swirl in his eyes as he challenges me to do something about this. So I buck up and push, still laughing, laughing so hard my side hurts.
He’s a big guy and all my bucking does is wedge his strong thigh between my legs. I’m gasping, still wiggling and fighting him, which only makes him yank my arms up and pin them together with one hand.
Oh, God. The throb grows. My panties flood with warmth, my hips lifting on their own accord.
My t-shirt has slid up and rests just below my breasts, which comes to his attention as he tickles my side.
He pauses, his green eyes traveling down my body.
If I thought his expression was intense before, it’s a volcanic eruption now. And there’s no doubt how much he wants me as his thick bulge presses against my hip.
“You excited to see me?” I ask, out of breath.
He slides his other leg over and wedges himself fully between my thighs and rasps, “You have no fucking idea.”
Here I am, stretched out beneath him, completely at his mercy. I’m panting, from being tickled or wrestling with him or being so turned on, I think I might die. And I need relief. Now.
So I undulate my hips beneath him to feel that bulge and smile when he groans and drops his head to my neck. I’m rewarded with a hot, open-mouthed kiss along my jaw.
I close my eyes and arch my back, needing more friction. His hand slides under my t-shirt and pinches my nipple before he tugs it.
“Yes,” I gasp, wrapping my ankles behind his back. Those strong hips move against mine in a dirty rhythm that makes me see stars. Through his thin track pants, I can feel everything. His thickness. His length. The ridge of his cock.
I feel myself blushing all the way down to my roots. Cock. Because that is certainly what’s pulsing against me. My skin burns as I wonder what it would feel like in my hand. How he’d feel against my tongue. How he’d taste.
A moan escapes my lips as he kneads my breast. I want to tell him how wet I am right now, how he’s the only one to make me this way—a wanton little sex maniac who’s willing to give it up without a promise for anything in return. But I don’t because I’m not quite that brave.
He rises up so we’re nose to nose. His lips are close, so close to mine, but he makes no move to kiss me as he grinds his length between my thighs and flicks his thumb over my taut nipple.
Freaking tease - he wants to play this game? I can dish it out too.
I smirk as I lick my lips. Slowly. Arching into him, I work one wrist out of his hold and tangle my fingers through his hair. His eyes darken as I lower my hand to hold his jaw and brush my mouth against him. Once, twice, and then I lick the seam of his lips.
The groan he releases is music to my ears. And then his mouth crashes down to mine.
We kiss, and it’s frantic, all gasps and lips and tongues. After a moment, I yank on his shirt, and we part to strip out of our clothes until I’m left in my boy shorts and he’s in his track pants. And then he’s back on me.
But before his lips descend on mine, he pauses and looks me over. I half think he’s changed his mind again, which means I might have to strangle him, but he levels me with a stare. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I hate the indecision in his eyes. Hate that he isn’t as consumed by the moment as I am and has the presence of mind to ask that question.
Damn him for not being more wound up. Because I want him to give in to this attraction that’s been building between us from the moment he stepped into this house.
So I go for broke, whispering words that I’ve never before uttered. “Yes, Brady, I’m pretty sure I want you to fuck me.”
His nostrils flare, and then his hand winds into my hair, yanking until I feel a bite of pain, to hold me still as he presses his mouth to mine like he’s finally claiming me.
32