Some Sort of Crazy (Happy Crazy Love, #2)

“No excuses, Naughtalie Nixon. You misbehaved, and now I have to punish you.” Suddenly he flipped me over onto my belly and hitched up my hips so I was on my knees. When I tried to get up, he grabbed a handful of my hair and held my head down, pushing my cheek into the mattress. “Don’t. Move. Or you won’t get what you want.”

I’d always liked the low, gravelly sound of his voice, but now it made me so hot I wanted to scream. It was Miles, but it was a side of him I’d never known, still playful but also commanding, and it almost made him seem like a stranger. I could feel his cock pressing against my ass, and I shivered in anticipation, biting my lip. What would he do to me?

He sat back, letting go of my hair. “Say you were a bad girl.”

I giggled—mostly from nerves—and he cracked one palm hard across my ass, making me yelp.

Fuck! That kinda hurt!

But it made me want to please him.

He put his hand over the stinging skin. “Say it.”

“I was a bad girl,” I said softly, coquettishly.

He smacked the other cheek even harder, and I cried out again. “Louder, Natalie.”

“I was a bad girl!”

“Good.” He smacked me a third time. A fourth. “Tell me to spank you harder.”

“Spank me harder.” Wincing, I braced myself for the sting, but it didn’t come.

“Say it like you mean it, please.”

“Spank me harder!” I yelled. Crack! His palm slapped my ass with enough force to bring tears to my eyes, but I was so turned on I was smiling deliriously.

“Good girl.” He rubbed both hands over the burning skin. “Fucking hell, your ass is phenomenal. I could punish you all night.”

“No,” I said breathlessly. “You promised to fuck me.”

“That’s right.” Reaching beneath me, he turned me onto my back and slipped a hand between my legs. “I promised to fuck you hard, didn’t I. Are you wet for me?” He stroked me shallowly, finding my * slick with desire.

“Yes.” I whimpered as he slid one finger easily inside me, and then two, his thumb rubbing my clit.

“Good.”

I rocked my hips against his hand, panting in frustration. “Miles,” I begged. “Now.”

“So impatient,” he chided. “It took me years to get you into bed, honeypot. You have to let me play a little.” Moving down the bed, he lowered his head between my thighs and replaced his thumb with his tongue, licking my clit with long, firm strokes. “Mmmm, don’t come until I say so, OK? You are absolutely fucking delicious, and I need to savor every bit of this meal in case I never get to eat out at this restaurant again.”

“Oh, God.” My entire body was so coiled up with sexual tension, I was nearly in tears, yet he could still makes jokes and tease me.

He bit my inner thigh as he twisted his fingers inside me, putting pressure where I’d never felt it before, a spot that had my eyes rolling back in my head.

“If you don’t want me to come too soon, you better stop touching me like that.”

“You like that?” His fingers plunged deeper inside me as he teased my clit with the tip of his tongue, his lips, his teeth.

My legs twitched. “Fuck yes. Oh God.”

“Don’t come yet, you naughty thing. Wait for permission.” But then he buried his face in my * and sucked my clit into his mouth, flicking it hard with his tongue.

I felt myself spiraling upward, and had no idea how to control it. Unable to help myself, I rocked my hips instinctively, grinding against his mouth. “Oh God, I’m sorry, it’s been too long, and you’re too good, and I’m going to come so hard, and oh fuck—Miles. Yes. Yes! Yes!” I moaned in agony and delight, my hands clawing at the sheets as the orgasm reached its highest peak. At the moment of release, I grabbed his head, fisting my hands in his hair as my body released all the tortuous tension inside it in blissful pulsing waves.

“Fuck.” Miles crawled up my body, licking his lips. “That was so hot. But you are a very bad girl to come before I said you could. I knew you were just pretending to be such a goody two shoes all these years.”

I laughed, trying to catch my breath. “You know what? Maybe I was.”

“And inside you was a wanton little harlot just waiting for me to let her out.”

I reached between us, finally wrapping my hand around his cock. “I want you inside me.”

“Yeah? You want my cock inside you?” He closed his eyes, his game face slipping slightly as I worked my hand up and down his hot, hard length.

“Yes. But first.” I shimmied down between his legs until my head was right between his thighs.

“What’s this?” Miles looked down at me in surprise.

“What if I never get to eat at this restaurant again?” I asked coyly, angling his cock toward my mouth and rubbing its smooth tip on my lips. I had never, never, acted this boldly before, but Miles was inspiring me to let my instincts take over, play a little, take my time and enjoy this for what it was—good, dirty fun. How had I gotten to be so serious about sex?

Melanie Harlow's books