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Taking What's His(12)

By:Diane Alberts


He cupped her cheek and smiled at her, his gaze tender. But his grip was anything but. Spinning her around, he slammed his body against her back, his hard erection pressing against her butt. He rested his hand across her throat possessively. Not squeezing. Just holding her still. “You’re way too good at fucking me with your mouth.”

Her stomach clenched tight, doing a flip-flop, and she moaned. She couldn’t help it. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Nah.” He nibbled on her shoulder. “It’s time to get the rest of these clothes off. Follow me.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

He led her into his bedroom, never dropping his hold on her. One slow step at a time. “Such a good girl. So obedient.”

His hand closed over her breast, and he squeezed it. Desire shot through her, straight to her core. They’d finally entered his bedroom. It was as neat as the rest of the house. It was immaculate. Big bed. One dresser. No pictures. Very impersonal.

Who are you, Holt Cunningham, and what are you hiding from the world?

He led her to the bed, flipped her over, and gently pushed her back until she hit the mattress. Her legs were spread as she fell, and he slipped between them and lowered himself onto her body. The sensation of his skin on hers, with nothing but a few scraps of fabric separating them, was electrifying.

She’d never felt anything like this before.

“You have no idea how crazy you’re driving me. I want to fuck you hard, right here, right now. No rules. No foreplay. Just you and me, naked and sweating.”

She stiffened beneath him. Because she’d been trying to avoid falling for the wrong guy yet again, she hadn’t exactly been climbing in and out of beds throughout college. And after one disastrous, disappointing night with one of the men she’d made an exception for…she hadn’t even wanted to. It had been years since she’d been in a guy’s bed, so she might need a gentler touch than that. “Holt. There’s something—”

“Shh.” He kissed her, brushing his mouth against hers lightly. “I said I wanted to, not that I would. Do you really think I’d leave you hanging like that? Not make you come? Scream? Beg? Cry for more until I finally gave it to you?”

She moaned when he tugged her hard nipple. “Oh my God.”

“Nope, just me.” He slid down her body, dropping kisses as he went. “Just you and me.”

He bit the skin right above her panty line, making her cry out. Then, without warning, he yanked her panties off and his mouth was on her, making her whole body scream with joy. “Yes. Oh my God, yes.”

When his tongue rolled over her, she squeezed his head with her legs, letting out a strangled moan. She’d never felt so…so…aware. Every touch, every stroke, drove her higher and higher, until she swore she was floating in the sky. She even saw the stars. His hand slipped under her butt, and he gripped her tight, his fingers digging into her flesh. The mixture of the almost-pain combined with the crazy pleasure sent her flying.

With a cry, she came, her whole body exploding with pleasure. He let her fall onto the mattress, climbing over her body to open a drawer by his bed. As he took care of business, safety wise, she lay on the bed, blinking up at the ceiling. Holy. Crap. He was amazing. As soon as he had a condom on, he gripped her hips, tilted them up, and slammed his mouth onto hers. She barely had a chance to draw in a breath before he was driving inside of her fully. She stiffened, waiting for her body to adjust to his size.

It took longer than she’d thought it would.

He froze, his mouth still pressed to hers. It was as if someone had hit pause on the DVR, and neither of them could move. And then slowly, oh so freaking slowly, he pulled back and stared at her. “Lydia. Did I…were you…?”

She bit her lip. “No, God, no. I’m not a virgin. It’s just been a while. Like…only with one other guy. It was…not good. And it was freshman year in college…so, yeah.”

“Jesus.” He caught her chin, his touch a little bit rough. “Don’t you think you should have fucking told me that? I’d have been slower. More gentle. I wouldn’t have…shit.”

“I’m sorry. I-I can go, if you want.”

He reared back. “Not fucking happening.” Then he hesitated. “Unless you’re regretting…do you want to leave?”

“No. Not at all.” She bit her lip even harder. “But you seem mad…”

“Not mad. Never mad.” He ran his knuckles over her cheek, his eyes tender and no longer stormy blue. Now they were like the soft summer sky on a clear day. “I just feel like an asshole. I should have been gentle. Sweet.”