Page 44

I reach up and start unbuttoning my blouse. “I believe you were acting like a dirty bastard and groping my tits.”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” I reply as I get the last button undone and let my top slip down my arms.

Bronson takes a step back as soon as it pools around my feet and growls as his eyes fixate on my lace-covered breasts. My hands move behind me, unclasping my bra.

“You’re fucking perfection,” he mutters as he grasps the neckline of his long-sleeved grey shirt and tugs it over his head, tossing it off to the side.

My greedy eyes drink him in. For someone who referred to my marathons as torture, he clearly works out. This man has abs for days.

His hands slide around my waist, reaching for the button at the rear of my skirt as his face inches closer, sucking one of my perk nipples into his mouth.

“Bronson,” I moan, fisting my hands into his hair.

Once he drags down my zipper, his fingers disappear beneath the waistband, as his hands palm the fleshy part of my arse. “Fuck, Rose,” he groans, dragging my lower body closer, letting me feel how rock hard he is behind his zipper.

My hands drop from his head as my fingers fumble with the button on his jeans. He shoves down my skirt, followed by my underwear. His movements are almost desperate, as if something inside him has finally snapped.

I step out of my skirt and lace thong once they’re pooled around my ankles, kicking them away. The instant I’m free from every stitch of clothing, Bronson takes over what my fingers were struggling to do, and pops the button on his jeans.

Livewires dance beneath my skin as he takes a slow, deliberate step backwards. His eyes travel lazily down my body, the heat of his gaze so intense it leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. When his eyes finally return to mine, he skims his tongue slowly across his bottom lip.

“I wanted to take my time with you, drag this out for as long as I could, but the urge to sink inside you, sweetheart, is too great.” He gets his zipper down, and I shamelessly track his movements as I nibble on the corner of my mouth. “I need to fuck you more than I need my next breath.”

He pulls an accordion of rubbers out of his pocket, rips one off with his teeth, and drops the rest on the floor. He came prepared; I like that.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of his boxer briefs, he peels them and his jeans down his legs in one swift movement. My mouth waters as soon as his thick, hard cock springs free. I want to touch him and taste him, but there’s plenty of time for that later. For now I’m going to stand here like a good girl and let him take the lead.

My eyes follow him as he rolls the condom down his impressive length and continues telling me his plans. “So here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to fuck you right here where we stand, hard and fast against the wall. When I’m done, we’ll move to the bed so I can worship every inch of that phenomenal body of yours. Is that okay with you?”

I nod, because I wouldn’t be able to string two words together in this moment if I tried. There’s something undeniably sexy about a man who knows how to take control in the bedroom; and he can fuck me on every surface of my apartment if he wants to. I’m here for all of it.

He steps into me, crashing his lips to mine. His kiss is rough, bruising even, but I love it. He uses his knee to part my legs as his hand slips down, and my lady parts rejoice. I whimper into his mouth as soon as his fingers make contact with my sensitive flesh.

He circles my clit a few times, and I already feel like I’m on the edge. I blame the sexual tension that’s been simmering between us for weeks. I widen my stance because, as good as this feels, I need more.

Bronson doesn’t disappoint, sinking a finger deep inside me, followed closely by another. I bend my knees slightly, dropping my weight onto his hand. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck my fingers.”

I tilt my head back and moan as I roll my hips. My hands find the wall as my short nails scrape against the plaster, searching for something to grip.

“Let go, Rose,” he murmurs into the crook of my neck. “I’ve got you, baby.”

A wave of euphoria sweeps through me, leaving every muscle trembling in its wake. My breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps as I surrender completely to the sensation, letting this beautiful, sexy man before me rock my friggin’ world.

“B-Bronson,” I stutter as I fall over the edge.

He doesn’t stop his assault until the very last wave shudders through me. My body becomes deliciously weak as he removes his fingers from inside me, slides his hands behind my legs, hoists me off the floor, and impales me with his cock.

My reprieve only lasts seconds, but I’m not complaining as he pounds into me, lighting me up from the inside out all over again. “So tight,” he grunts into the crook of my neck. “So fucking perfect.”

The friction from my back rubbing against the wall starts to burn, and the ferocity of his thrust makes my brain rattle as I slide my fingers into his hair, guiding his mouth back to mine. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, dig the heels of my feet into his arse cheeks, and hold on for dear life, enjoying every second of the ride.

In a blink of an eye, I’m suddenly on the bed and he’s flipping me over before dragging me onto my knees. He’s inside me again before I can even take my next breath. “Rose,” he groans as he thrusts in with such wild abandon, I can feel his balls slapping against my clit.

Bronson’s fingers grip my hips so tightly I know they’re going to leave marks, but I don’t care. I’ve never experienced such a thorough fucking before. Or been with a man who appears to have lost all self-control. And holy hell, I don’t want him to ever stop.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he pants. “I want to climb inside your sweet pussy and never leave.” If my lady parts had hands, they’d be applauding that comment.