Unspoken(61)

I’d just done either the stupidest thing in my life or the smartest.





Chapter Eighteen



AM

WE DROVE STRAIGHT TO MY apartment for the sole reason that it was closest to us. Bo told me not to talk and to sit on my side of the car with my hands in my lap.

“If you touch me, I’m pretty sure I’m going to wreck the car,” he explained, after giving me my orders. I didn’t tempt him because I wasn’t sure that if I started, I would care if the car was wrecked.

Once we were inside my bedroom, his lips were on mine before I could open my mouth. Every kiss I’d experienced before had been innocent compared to this. From the first lick of his tongue against my lips, this kiss conveyed bone-deep want. Bo’s mouth was hot and wet upon mine. He ravaged me, biting and sucking on my lips, his tongue seeking out every crevice and surface until I felt as if he were consuming me.

Bo lifted my legs around his hips, and I wrapped myself around him. With one hand under my butt, he used his other to push up my shirt up to expose my bra. The sheer strength it took to hold me up like this took my breath away and shot a bolt of excitement straight to my core. I whimpered with need.

He shushed me and bent his head to lick between my breasts, pulling down one lacy cup with his teeth to suckle hard on my nipple. I clutched his head to my chest so tightly I was sure I was suffocating him, but I didn’t care. By the way he pressed in tighter, he didn’t seem to mind.

My legs were splayed open, but I wasn’t getting enough relief. I canted my hips upward and wiggled against him, trying to find relief for the ache between my legs. In answer, Bo’s hand left my breast and went to the juncture of my legs. Through the denim and the lace of my panties, I could feel his hand, but this sensation only made me want a closer, stronger touch. Bo undid my snap and my zipper, grunting his disapproval.

“You should wear a skirt, always,” he instructed, lowering me onto the bed and pushing my jeans down just far enough so that he could insert his hand between the denim and my flesh. He braced one hand on the side of my head and held his body suspended over mine. I didn’t reply. I was too busy feeling. Feeling his mouth, his stroking tongue. Feeling his hands, his seeking fingers.

There was only one thought in my mind: How can I get closer to him?. He began rubbing me in circles, and I pushed up against his hand, frustrated by the restraint of my jeans. His fingers dipped inside me, and I couldn’t stop a moan from escaping me. “Oh God. Bo.”

“I love that you’re so wet for me.”

I shivered, the pulse of my blood drumming so loudly in my ears I could barely hear him. He pressed the heel of his palm hard against my pelvis bone and his two fingers began a slow thrust inside me. I was dying, one infinitesimal centimeter at a time.

“So hot. Tight. Can’t fucking wait to be inside you.” Bo’s words were more grunts than complete thoughts. I understood. I had no ability to form complete sentences either. My sole focus was on the slick between my legs caused by the movement of his fingers thrusting in and out and the abrasion of his palm, rough and calloused against my sex. “I want to stay inside you for hours. Live here.”

All my nerve endings reached for something and then, like an explosion, sensation rushed down to my center and detonated. I was grateful to be lying down, because my legs felt like noodles, and I could only see sparkles of light.

Bo kept his hand firmly against me, drawing out as many shudders and shocks from my body as he could, and when I finally came down off my high, he withdrew his hand. He wiped his fingers on the sweatshirt that he’d discarded upon entering the room and applied soft soothing kisses on my lips, cheek and jaw. The hand that had caressed my core now moved in long strokes up and down the side of my body. I drew him down on top of me, wanting to feel his delicious weight press mine into the mattress.

As I felt his insistent erection against my stomach, I knew I wanted to give him the same pleasure, have him under my thumb just as he’d overpowered me with emotion and need. Bo pushed upright and lifted the heavy fall of my hair aside as I slid off the bed to kneel in front of him. “You don’t need to do this.”

I pressed my hand against his thighs and stared up at him. “I want to.”

The button had already come undone and I unzipped his jeans. Underneath he was completely nude, and his heavy cock fell forward, free of its constraints. I pressed my face into his hair and rubbed my cheek against the soft skin of his erection. It bobbed against my cheek. He smelled of male sweat and musk. I licked his skin between his leg and crotch and tasted the delicious salty flavor. His leg buckled, and Bo readjusted, bracing one knee against the bed, one hand hard against my shoulder. With his free hand, he stroked my hair tenderly.