Page 8 of Flirting with Trouble

“God,” I pant out, and try to turn around, but he holds me in place.

“You’re a powerful woman, used to being in control.” He kisses my neck. “Tonight, you relinquish that control to me.” He nips at that tender skin, and I gasp in surprise. “Do you want that, sweet thing?”

“You’re going to make me crazy.”

His laugh is low and sinful. “I’m going to make you come so many times, you won’t have the energy for crazy.”

“You’d better be able to fulfill that promise, boy toy.”

He gropes one breast and grabs my jaw with his other hand, turning my face to the side. His eyes bore into me. “Boy toy, huh?” His tone is amused, but he takes me in a brutal kiss that electrifies me and squeezes my nipple, sending a bolt of lightning between my legs. I cry out into the kiss, and my hips buck forward. He does it again, and the pleasure is so intense, my knees buckle. He holds me up and growls against my lips, “Is that the way a boy kisses, sugarplum?”

I’m so racked with pleasure, it’s all I can do to breathe.

“That’s what I thought.” He releases my jaw, and his hand slides down my stomach, stopping just above my thong.

“Touch me,” I demand, shocking myself and clearly amusing Wells.

“I’m not sure if I want to just yet.” He drags his fingers along the edge of my thong. “Maybe I should make you beg a little more.”

He has me wound so tight, I’m ready to snap. “Don’t you dare.”

“I like the idea of you on your knees for me.”

Another moan slips out. Holy crap. What is he doing to me?

“You like that, too, don’t you?” His hand flattens on my stomach, holding my back flush against his bare chest. His skin is hot and enticing. “What a sight you’ll be,” he says gruffly. “Naked and on your knees, your pussy dripping for my cock.”

I close my eyes, breathing harder.

“My hands tangled in your hair. Those sexy blue eyes trained on me as I fuck your mouth.”

“Wells” rushes out, as drenched with need as I am.

“Fuck, sweet thing. I love hearing you say my name like that.” He pushes his hand into my thong, and I gasp as his finger slides over my clit and through my wetness. “Mm. I bet you taste sweeter than honey.” He withdraws his hand. “Give me your mouth.”

Like metal to magnet, I turn my head, ready and willing to do anything he wants.

“Good girl.” He paints my lips with my arousal and drags his tongue over them. “So fucking sweet.” He crushes his mouth to mine and pushes his hand back into my thong, zeroing in on my clit with lethal precision, and only one finger.

Holy hell. He wasn’t kidding.

I can barely think as he tangles his free hand in my hair, holding tight, sending an erotic mix of pain and pleasure whirling and billowing inside me. It spreads through my chest and down my limbs to the very tips of my fingers and toes. His kisses are fierce and possessive. I hold on to his arms to keep my knees from buckling again as he takes me higher, working me into a writhing frenzy of need and want. Sinful noises spill from my lungs, earning a growl that arouses me even more. My entire body pulses with the need to come. He must feel it, too, because his finger works faster, and he says, “Time to come, gorgeous one.”

He yanks my head back and sinks his teeth into my neck, sending a hailstorm of sensation raining down on me. “Wells—” flies from my lips, and the world spins away.

“That’s it. Say my name,” he grits out as pleasure ravages me. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

I try to catch my breath, but he pushes his fingers inside me and uses his thumb on those oversensitive nerves, catapulting me right back up to the peak of another mind-blowing orgasm that goes on and on. When I finally start coming down from the high, foggy-brained and breathless, I wobble on my heels. I forgot I still had them on.

Wells steadies me. “I’ve got you.” He turns me in his arms, and I blink several times, trying to bring his handsome face into focus. “There you are,” he says, low and seductive, as if he’s been looking for me his whole life.

“If you can do that with one finger,” I say breathily, “I can’t wait to see what you can do with the rest of yourself.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to look at another man without comparing them to me.”

He lifts me into his arms, and I laugh in surprise as he carries me into the bedroom. I have never been carried into a bedroom. Not even on my wedding night. I might think he’s trying to be romantic, if not for the facts. Neither of us has any interest in romance, and he is the king of seduction, with skills I’m sure he’s honed on too many women to count.

“A magic finger, a wicked mouth, and you’re chivalrous, too?” I tease. “What other superpowers do you possess?”