Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“You’re not gonna let me fuck you tonight, are you?”
“No.” It’s a playful whisper. “You have to earn that.”
I groan against her lips. “How do I earn it?”
She merely smiles and kisses me again, sliding her hands underneath my shirt to stroke my bare chest. Christ, I love having her hands on me. And I need my hands on her. I pull her long-sleeve shirt off and tug her camisole up to her collarbone. The bra beneath it is paper-thin. She doesn’t need the padding, though. Her breasts are full, perky, fucking perfect. I tweak her nipples through the lacy material and enjoy the sweet moan I’m rewarded with.
“I’ve been dying to do this,” I growl, yanking the bra down to expose her tits. Goddamn gorgeous. I pull one beaded nipple into my mouth, suck hard, and almost get a contact high. Her skin tastes so good, and her nipple feels like heaven beneath my tongue. I’m painfully aroused as I lick the distended bud.
She moans again. At first I think it’s from pleasure, until I register the note of misery.
“What’s wrong?” I say immediately.
“I can’t believe I’m letting a Harvard player touch my boobs.”
I relax. Laughing softly, I flick my tongue against her other nipple. “Hey, it’s not like this is your first time with a Harvard player.”
“You’re the captain of the team,” she says gloomily. “This is such a bad idea. We’re playing you next week, dammit. My friends would be furious if they saw me right now.”
“Let’s not talk about hockey. And who gives a shit what your friends think.” I suck her nipple between my lips.
“I do. I care what my friends think.”
“Then you should stop.”
My mouth conquers hers in a blistering kiss that robs me of sanity. I flip her over, and now I’m on top of her, grinding my lower body against her. The backseat doesn’t offer room to maneuver, but I don’t need much. With my lips pressed tight to hers, I undo the button of her jeans and pull them down along with her panties, low enough that I can access the warm paradise between her legs.
She whimpers when I drag the pad of my thumb over her swollen clit. “That feels good.”
“Yeah?” I say thickly.
“Oh yeah.”
I keep rubbing, teasing, exploring. I skim my fingertips down to her opening and find her impossibly wet. Jesus. I want to be inside her more than I want my next breath. I practically weep at the knowledge that I can’t be in there tonight. I dip my fingers in all that sweet moisture and then use it to rub slow circles over her clit.
Her hips start rocking. I prop up on one elbow, watching her expression go hazier and hazier as I play with her pussy. “I like having you like this,” I whisper. “On your back. Legs spread.” I kiss her again, and she sucks hard on my tongue, summoning a low groan from me.
“This is such a bad idea,” she whispers back.
“Then tell me to stop.”
“No.”
“No what?”
Brenna pushes her pussy into my hand. “Don’t stop.”
I chuckle against her shoulder before dipping my head so I can suck and lick her nipples again.
She lets out a breathy moan. “Don’t ever stop.”
I smile. I distinctly remember her telling me not so long ago that she would never, ever hook up with me. And now here we are, fooling around in the backseat of a car, her pussy mine to discover. My finger slides inside her and—
“Oh my fucking God,” I choke out. My head pops up from her tits. “You’re so tight.” I wonder if it’s because she hardly ever fucks, or maybe I’m making assumptions about that. Just because she didn’t sleep with McCarthy doesn’t mean she hasn’t recently slept with someone else. She said she was picky, not celibate.
I find myself praying to a higher power that I make the cut. Maybe not tonight, but tomorrow, next week, a year from now. I’ll take whatever I can get. That’s how badly I want her.
I add a second finger and she clamps even tighter around me. There’s hardly any room for two fingers. Two, for chrissake. While my thumb tends to her clit, I push my fingers in and out in a lazy rhythm. Brenna’s eyelids go heavy, her breathing labored. I aimlessly rub the rock in my pants against her thigh as I finger her.
“I want you to kiss me.” She yanks my head down, her fingers running through my hair as her tongue finds mine.
The kiss is urgent, sloppy. She’s practically riding my fingers, making the sexiest noises I’ve ever heard. I come up for air. “Are you going to come for me?”
Her mumbled response is unintelligible.
I chuckle. My hand keeps working her. My fingers are soaked. I push them deeper inside her, then withdraw and curl them right near her opening, stroking hard.