Home > If You Were Mine(23)

If You Were Mine(23)
Author: Melanie Harlow

Theo’s other hand closed over one breast, kneading it beneath his palm. I wanted to stop and take my dress all the way off, but I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. He teased my clit with wet fingertips, mimicking the stroke of his tongue against mine. Then he pushed two fingers inside me. My hips moved of their own accord, and I clung to his neck. Behind me I could feel his cock rubbing against my lower back.

“You’re so wet, it’s so fucking hot.” Theo’s voice was different, raspier, needier. No teasing lilt of laughter in it. “I want to bury my head in your thighs, get my tongue right here,” he said, torturing me with soft, quick swirls over my clit. “Then I want to fuck you with it. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I whispered, shock mingling with excitement. No one had ever talked to me like this before.

A second later, Theo spun me around and picked me up, my legs wrapping around his torso, my dress riding above my hips. He brought me over to the couch, set me on the cushions, and knelt down in front of it. “Don’t move.”

I watched him wrest the coat from his shoulders and take off his tie, my insides tight with anticipation. His eyes held mine as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt and rolled up the cuffs, exposing one thick wrist and then the other. His chest looked broad and muscular, I was dying to touch it. But when I reached out, Theo put a hand on my chest and shoved me against the back of the couch. Then he parted my knees, reached underneath my thighs, and yanked me to the edge so that my chin nearly rested on my chest. “Patience, princess.”

“But I want to touch you.” I moaned as he kissed his way up one trembling leg.

“I’m going to let you.” His lips and tongue traveled up the other leg. “But not until I make you come.”

My breath caught as I felt his tongue stroke up my center and circle slowly over my clit. My fingernails scraped at the upholstery on the couch.

“Not until I make you scream.” He slid two fingers inside me, so deep I gasped.

“Not until I make you beg.” His mouth closed over my clit and sucked greedily as he fucked me with his fingers. My insides clenched up so tight my feet came off the floor, as if the energy in my body was drawing itself in, a wave retreating before the surge. Just when I was at the peak, he pulled his hand from me and slipped his tongue inside. I gasped at the decadent heat of it, the startling intimacy, the shocking sensation of being devoured inside and out. My fingers found his hair and curled inside it, my jaw resting on my chest as I watched him bury his face between my legs. He rubbed his thumb hard and fast over my clit as his tongue thrust inside, driving me to a place of want so fierce it frightened me. Impulses I’d never felt had me grinding against him. Sounds I’d never made, frantic and feral, escaped my throat, the pitch rising higher and higher as I reached the breaking point. And when I finally exploded, my body pulsing with years of pent-up frustration, I screamed so loud and long I thought the windows might shatter.

“Two down.” Theo straightened up and touched the back of one hand to his mouth while my entire body shivered with aftershocks. Or maybe it was anticipation—would he let me touch him now?

I sat up and reached for his belt and he closed his hands over my wrists. “Not so fast, princess.”

“What?” I asked breathlessly.

“I haven’t heard you beg yet.”

Eleven

Theo

* * *

Jesus. That escalated quickly.

I hadn’t meant for this to happen. I hadn’t meant to tell her the truth, hadn’t meant to kiss her, hadn’t meant to take her home and fuck her with my tongue next to the Christmas tree.

But the road to hell is paved with good intentions. (And several strands of multi-colored lights.)

And she was impossible to resist. When she’d admitted to feeling something real tonight, my walls had crumbled a little. I was used to women wanting my attention, but I wasn’t used to feeling this kind of chemistry with them. But Claire had this strange effect on me—she made me want to fuck her and protect her from guys like me at the same time. She made me want to break my rules. She made me wish I was someone else…someone worthy.

I was an expert liar, and I didn’t often feel bad about it, but even I couldn’t bring myself to lie to Claire when she asked me to tell her she wasn’t crazy—even if it would have made things easier. Simpler. Cleaner.

Too late now—things were about to get dirty as fuck.

“Beg?” she asked a little nervously.

“Uh huh.” I got to my feet and backed away from her. If she got her hands on me, there was a chance I’d say to hell with testing her limits and fuck her into next year like I wanted to.

“I don’t know what to say.” Self-conscious now, she closed her thighs and tried to bring her dress down.

Such a fucking good girl. She’d probably never uttered the filthy words I wanted to hear her say. But I had a feeling they were there in her head. Claire knew what she wanted—her hand on my dick in the car told me that—she just had to get over her fear. “Yes, you do.”

“I don’t,” she said, sounding a little panicked. “I—”

“Do you want something from me?” To help her out, I unbuckled my belt.

She stared at my crotch. “Yes.”

“What?”

“You,” she said nervously.

I undid my pants and slipped my hand inside. “Come on, Miss French. You can do better than that.” My dick was hard and hot in my palm, and I moved my fist up and down my shaft, enjoying the way her eyes popped.

   
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