Part 4 (1/2)
”You're in trouble because you're impossible.”
She lifted her chin and met my eyes. ”I learned from the best.”
I moved her foot to my hip and traced a path up her thigh and beneath her skirt. I clenched my jaw as a fresh wave of frustration swept through me over how she'd left me at the club, how proud she was for leaving me hard, and how ninety percent of our arguments could be boiled down to one of us trying to get a reaction out of the other. Seriously f.u.c.ked-up situation we had going on here.
Still.
Gripping her a.s.s with both hands, I ignored her sharp inhale as I jerked her to the edge of the counter.
”You-” She started to protest, but I stopped her, placing a finger against her mouth. She still smelled unfamiliar-floral, not citrus-but beneath the heavy makeup and new perfume there was something softer in her eyes, something inherently Chloe. She could play dress-up all she wanted, but the woman who was mine would always be there. The realization was like drowning, and I leaned forward, replacing my finger with my lips and quickly becoming lost in her little breaths and sounds as she moved eagerly into my touch. Her kiss felt like a drug seeping into my bloodstream, and I pushed my hand into her hair and tilted her head, wanting more than the soft flicks of tongue between our parted lips.
With my palm on her chest, I guided her to lie down onto the counter, moving her how I wanted and not being particularly gentle about it, either. But she went willingly, eyes widening in recognition of the game we were playing, mouth soft and open. She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at me, waiting to see what I'd do next.
The gauzy material of her skirt felt like nothing in my hands as I slid it up her hips, exposing miles of leg and a different pair of satin panties beneath. I let my fingers press into her skin, wanting to hold her down and mark her up, hear her beg for what she wanted.
”I'm going to f.u.c.k you with my mouth,” I said, kneeling between her thighs and ghosting my lips over the thin material. ”f.u.c.k you with my tongue until you're begging for my c.o.c.k. Maybe I'll give it to you.” I shrugged. ”Maybe I won't.”
She sucked in a short breath and reached for my hair, trying to pull me forward. ”Don't tease, Bennett,” she said.
I pushed her hands away, laughing as I looked up at her. ”You don't get to make any of the decisions tonight, Chloe. Not after your bulls.h.i.+t game in the club.” I breathed again where her legs parted, flicking my tongue over her c.l.i.t until the fabric of her panties was thick with wetness. ”You kissed me, let me taste your t.i.ts, came on my hand, and then left me there. Hard. That wasn't very nice.”
”I . . . what?” she said, eyes unfocused as she watched me, a flush of color moving up her neck.
Leaning forward again, I pinned her hips to the counter, kissing and nipping at her through the thin satin until it was soaked. Her head fell back and she moaned, whispering my name into the silent room.
”Louder,” I said against her. ”Let me hear you.”
”Take them off. Suck on me.”
The neediness in her voice sent a jolt of electricity through my body and I wrapped the thin straps in my hand and viciously ripped them, wanting them down and gone and nothing between her and my mouth.
She cried out, arching against me at the first touch of my tongue to her skin, her fingers digging into my hair and her voice ringing all around us.
The s.p.a.ce was awkward but it didn't matter, and was more than made up for when I looked to the side to find her watching our reflection in the mirror, teeth biting into her bottom lip. I met her eyes as I tasted her, sliding my tongue across and inside.
I added a finger, then two, and watched as they moved in her, wet with how much she wanted me. Her voice was nothing more than a breathy whisper and my name over and over as she asked for more and opened her legs wider, the heel of her s.e.xy shoe sc.r.a.ping along the countertop. I could feel the heat of her all around me, the way she started to tremble as she got closer.
”Good?” I asked, making sure my voice vibrated against her.
She nodded, breathless, moving her hands above her head to push into her hair. ”So good. Oh f.u.c.k, Bennett, so close.”
G.o.d it was torture, wanting to watch her lose control, but wanting to feel it, too, needing to feel her.
I tried to hide my desperation as I fit my hands to her hips and all but threw her to the bench, hovering above her to lick a line from her navel to the sc.r.a.p of lace she called a bra. Sitting up, I unb.u.t.toned the top of my s.h.i.+rt, reached blindly for my belt, and undid my pants. I freed my c.o.c.k and almost gasped as she swatted my hand away and took me in her palm.
”No,” I said, flipping her over to her knees and stepping behind her. ”You had your time to play earlier. This is mine.” I lifted her a.s.s into the air, slapping it hard.
She gasped, turning around to look at me.
I gave her a dark smile, running my hand over her skin, soothing. ”Do you want me to stop?”
Her eyes narrowed into a glare.
”You are welcome to stop me anytime,” I murmured. ”I'm sure this is absolute torture for you.”
I brushed the tip of my c.o.c.k through her wetness and down to her c.l.i.t, circling, teasing.
”You're an a.s.shole,” she managed finally, and I brought my hand against her a.s.s again, harder. But this time instead of surprise, she moaned, hoa.r.s.e and hungry.
Then that was all there was: Chloe and the sounds she made, the way she asked me to push inside, to f.u.c.k her. And when I did, and smacked her a.s.s again, she pleaded for harder and more.
But even when I took what I wanted it wasn't enough; it never would be. I could feel the weight of it somewhere deep in my stomach-the absolute love I felt for her, the constant need to touch and feel and take, to mark her from the inside out.
I twisted my fingers in the material of her s.h.i.+rt, pulled it lower so I could see her b.r.e.a.s.t.s move as I f.u.c.ked her. Her hair fell across her back and I ran my hands under it, feeling the cool strands against my skin. I watched as I slid in and out of her, the way she pushed back against me, her skirt bunched up over her pink a.s.s and around her hips.
”I miss this,” I said, covering the mark I'd made, pressing down on it. ”All the time.”
She nodded, said my name. I could hear the frustration in her voice as she reached for something to hold on to, her other hand moving down between her legs.
”That's right,” I said, watching her touch herself. ”Get there. Make yourself come.”
It must have been what she needed because she cried out, spine arching as she pushed back against me. I was close, could barely think and so f.u.c.king hungry for it I could hardly breathe. My legs burned, muscles protesting as I thrust into her over and over. The legs of the bench sc.r.a.ped against the stone floor; the leather creaked beneath us.
”Bennett. f.u.c.k, Bennett,” she said, and heat pooled low in my stomach, building and building until it was pulsing through me, my vision going dark and fuzzy around the edges as I came.
Every part of me seemed to give out at once as I collapsed, panting and exhausted, gripping the bench for support.
”Holy s.h.i.+t.” The room was spinning and so quiet that my voice and even our breathing seemed to echo off the marble. I wondered how loud we'd been.
She stood, wobbling the slightest bit as she straightened her clothes and moved to a stall to clean herself up. ”You know I have to walk around after this?”
I grinned. ”Of course.”
”You did that on purpose.”
I rolled to my back and blinked up to the sparkling chandelier. ”At least I let you come, too.”
I knew I should straighten my clothes and find the boys, but right now all I wanted to do was sleep.
She moved to stand over me, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to my mouth. ”You need to go get some dinner or you'll be drunk by midnight.”
I groaned, trying to pull her down to me, but she escaped by shoving her finger between my ribs. ”Ow! Isn't that the point?”
”I'm sure they're wondering where you are.”