Not long after, he returned to playing with her pussy, and she felt the first flutters of an impending orgasm. Fuck, the man knew what he was about. Pressing his thumb to her clit, he circled in time with his thrusts. Before she knew it, she’d pushed her chest against his face, where he obliged by engulfing her nipple in his hot mouth. Laving the sensitive nub with his tongue, he sped up his movements on her clit. Bristowe could only feel; there was no comprehension of what she did next. Thighs trembling, she pulled his hair as the coil snapped and she spiraled over the ledge.
“Oh, god, Flynn! Fuck, fuck!”
“Beautiful, doll,” he whispered into her hair.
“I need to be your fuck doll, Flynn. I need that cock inside me,now.”
“Jesus Christ, you’ll be the death of me.” Flynn wasted no time choosing a condom and putting it on—thank the lord. “Are you ready?”
It would have been a cliche to tell him she’d been ready since the moment they met. But, god, she felt it. “So ready.”
His touch was surprisingly gentle on her hips, his forehead tilted toward hers, and their eyes locked. She would have pegged him as the type to not give much of a damn, but there he was with a tender expression on his face. It was more than she was prepared for, so she grasped his ass and helped him along.
The first inch was fucking glorious, but after that . . . after that, she forgot her own name. He filled her to the brim, completing her more than she knew she’d needed.
Buried to the hilt, he groaned loudly, the sound sending shivers along her limbs.
“Oh, my god.” It was hard to catch her breath, and they were only hovering in the space between union and completion. Once he moved, oxygen became harder to come by.
Who knew the guy who was nearly another case to prosecute would end up being in her bed, fucking her senseless and showing her missionary was more exciting than she’d thought? Who the fuck knew it could be so good with this guy who’d had the nerve to call her a pig before apologizing profusely at the thought of hurting her feelings? And yet, each withdrawal and subsequent sweet invasion sent her over another edge she had never known with a man. Flynn angled her pelvis up, guiding her along his cock in a smooth rhythm. With no idea what to hold on to, she clutched the sheets as the mattress moved beneath her. He was so deep, so big, so good.
“Fuck me harder, please!”
In case she didn't already know, Flynn was fucking fantastic in bed. Instead of moving faster, he slowed down, thrusting hard and deep each time. His strokes were powerful, hitting her just right. The sounds he elicited from somewhere inside her were insane; nothing but gibberish.
“You like that, doll?” Shallow breaths broke up his words.
Looking into his face, Bristowe felt something click in her chest. Unwilling to think about it right then, she instead focused on meeting his movements. Her back arched, her skin prickled, and she knew she would come again soon. Each time he drove himself inside her pliant body, he pushed her another inch up the bed, until she had to brace her hands on the headboard.
Moaning at the new friction, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to maintain her sanity. Working with him was one thing, but working against him was a kind of bliss. A flush worked its way over her skin, her toes cramped as they curled tight, and then the dam burst.
“Fuck, I feel you coming, doll. Goddamn.”
Keeping one hand on her hip, he used the other to work her clit until she was left screaming incoherently. Her body went limp, and yet he continued. Speeding up, he gathered her into his arms, their sweat-slicked bodies becoming one unit. The bed protested, shimmying and bumping into the wall, until he finally came with a grunt.
Before becoming dead weight, he caught himself on his elbows and kissed the tip of her nose. Out of it all, that was what it took to bring tears to the corners of her eyes. Thankfully, he moved off the bed to dispose of the condom, or he would probably think she was insane.
Not insane, just fucked. Thoroughly, delightfully, and with a man she knew she wanted to spend more time getting to know. It felt foreign, a bit unlike her, but she’d had a handful of relationships in the past.
The biggest problem was letting her heart get tangled up in the mess. She knew better than to get emotionally involved after sex. It never led to anything good. It was endorphins, that was all.
Crazy, stupid endorphins telling her she’d been waiting for Flynn Redford to walk into her life.
When he returned to the bed, he plopped down beside her and dropped kisses all over her flushed skin. “Have to admit, I don't think I expected that.”
“Um, me neither.”
“Maybe next time I’ll throw you around a little.”
“Next time . . .” She was almost ready for the next time, if only her wet noodle arms could get themselves into gear. “Next time, I look forward to you using me harder.”
His breath washed over her taut nipple seconds before his open mouth landed there. “Are you saying you’re my little fuck doll, Bristowe?”
Hearing the words out of his mouth was different from when she’d said it. Hotter. Sexier. Raunchier. Unbidden, her thighs clenched together. “Yes,” she breathed.
“I love your unfiltered mouth.” As if to prove it, he ran the pad of his thumb around the outer edge of her lips.
Bringing her head forward a fraction of an inch and taking his thumb into her mouth, she swirled her tongue over the tip to watch his jaw drop. Flynn pressed his thumb further into the back of her mouth, and before long, he was kissing her, holding her face in his hands and deepening the connection. Her heart picked up its pace, and she tried to tamp down her burgeoning feelings. What the fuck was she meant to do with the knowledge that she was falling in love with this man?
