Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(99)

He doesn't leave them bare for long, covering them with colorful hands, kneading them with inked fingers, sucking and kissing and biting. It feels like there's a string from my nipples straight down to my pussy, making me clench my thighs and bite my lip as I lift my hands up and tangle my fingers in the black netting behind my head.

“Did I ever mention to you how much I love your tits?” Zayden asks with another impish grin.

“I don't think you've said it outright, but I kind of got the gist,” I whisper as I struggle to stay quiet. I know there's nobody around, but I'm afraid my voice will echo, that one of the neighbors will get it in their minds to come and investigate. “But mine are nothing special. They're pretty much just average C cups. I bet you've seen better.”

Zayden looks up at me and runs his tongue across his lower lip, the motion driving me completely up the wall. Well, metaphorically speaking of course since I'm trapped beneath the hard warmth of his body, cradled in the bouncy mesh.

“Better?” He looks down at my boobs and I laugh, trying to cover them up with my hands. Zay pushes me away, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head as he leans it and teases my nipple just barely with the tip of his tongue. The sensation is hot and sharp enough to be almost painful. “Now, I don't know about that. They're not huge, but they suit your body.” He squeezes my breast in his fingers, making a warm sounding purr in the back of his throat. “Full, ripe, soft as hell but lifted and perky. Nope. I can't say they get any better than this, and I like to consider myself a breast connoisseur.”

Zayden winks at me and then dives back into teasing and licking and sucking my nipples and the soft skin around them, working me into a frenzy without touching anything else. My hips buck against his body, desperate for stimulation, hungry for release.

When Zay moves his mouth up to kiss and suck at my neck, I forget to care about hickeys or how about how cold I am and I even forget to be silly. I just succumb to his touch, his body, his presence. Because honestly, as hard and firm as his muscles are, as bright as his tattoos, as sharp as his piercings … it's him that I find most attractive. I like his mannerisms and the way he smiles, how he takes such care to shave designs into his hair in the morning. I like the way he holds the baby and plays with the kids and puts sweaters on his cat.

I pretty much like everything about him.

I breathe out suddenly and look up at the night sky, letting my thoughts drift away on the wind as Zayden starts kissing his way down between my breasts and pauses at the corset, reaching under me again to take it off. As soon as it's gone, he kisses my belly down to the panties. I left the garter belt and thigh highs off before I left the club, so it's nothing but smooth sailing from here on out.

Zay slides his tongue in an arc just above the waistband of the thong, grabbing the edge with his teeth and pulling it down. I think he sneaks his fingers under the fabric on the opposite side, too, but all I can see is him looking up at me with his brown eyes, his full sexy mouth curved into a smirk, the red fabric clenched between his teeth.

I sigh and drop my head back against the taut surface of the trampoline beneath my head. Zayden's weight pulls me in towards the center as he gets the panties off my leg and tosses them aside, reaching down to undo the crazy red and black striped belt he's wearing.

“Brooke,” he says as he undoes his jeans and fishes a condom out of his back pocket. “Come here.”

I sit up as Zayden reaches out for my hand, encouraging me to straddle him, a knee on either side of his thighs as he leans back into the mesh and looks up at me. His cock stands between us, thick and proud and ready.

Without a word, I climb up over him, aligning our hips as I reach down and take hold of his shaft, using instinct to guide him to the hot heat of my core. Zayden watches me with half-lidded eyes, his gaze heavy and direct, attention focused on my face, on the way the water sluices between my lips. My bangs stick to my forehead as I drop my head back and relax my muscles, sliding all the way down Zayden's cock until we're pressed together tight and my head is spinning from the rush of pleasure.

“I can't move,” I whisper, because I feel trapped, frozen, full. Zay reaches up and runs his thumb down my lower lip, taking hold of my hip with his other hand, the one tattooed with an empty, open book.

“Sure you can,” he whispers, urging me to move with his hand as I drop my own to his chest, fingers splayed out across the wash of tattoos between his shoulders. I can barely seem to find my own breaths, each exhale getting caught in the night in a cloud of white. “That's it, right there. Work that cock, Smarty-Pants.”