Then her eyes flutter shut, and her hand slides behind my neck, and I’m being dragged in for a kiss that has my balls in my throat.
Okay, I’m more surprised. Definitely me.
Before I know it, she’s hooked a knee over my hip and is grinding her mound against me like a cat in heat. Though right now, I’m happily grinding back.
For Christ’s sake, Caraldi! What are you doing?
I pull away, dragging free from those lips. Her pupils are dilated to the point that I can barely see the blue anymore, but I’m pretty sure mine are too. Her chest is still heaving, and I can feel her nipples poking at me through the fabric of that goddamn dress.
“What are you playing at, little girl?” I husk out.
“Don’t fucking call me little girl! I’m a woman.” Defiance flares in her eyes. “And you spanked me because you liked it!”
She’s right, dammit.
I don’t answer.
“What’s the problem? You started something you’re too afraid to finish?” Her lips are puffy, slightly parted. Her challenge is unmistakable.
What the hell? A minute ago, she was trying to disembowel me with her boot.
“Not afraid. You’re just a kid. What are you… like, 18?” I reach back and uncurl her fingers from where they’re threading into my hair.
“I told you, I’m fucking 25!”
“Bullshit!”
“Okay, I’m 22, all right? What difference does it make? I’m not a goddamn child! Are you saying you don’t want me because I’m too young?” Disbelief colors her expression. It should be coloring mine too. She’s had my nuts in my throat from the first moment I laid eyes on her.
“I’m not saying I don’t want you. I—” Jesus! What am I saying?
“I. Am. Not. A kid,” she growls, grabbing the front of my shirt in her fist.
No, she’s not. I can see that clear as day. And my dick’s shouting in approval. But thankfully, my brain is still in control. I remain motionless.
“Still afraid?” Her voice is taunting. When she reaches for the waistband of my pants and tugs them past my hipbones, I feel a groan rumble up my throat. “Oh, hello, big boy… Not all of you is going soft on me,” she whispers as her hand closes around my shaft and slides down to the root. “Are you trying to convince me you can’t feel what’s going on here? Because I’d say you’ve been waiting for this all damn night.”
God, fucking help me!
My resistance crumbles. Who am I kidding? What resistance?
“Stop playing games, Buttercup,” I hiss.
“Who says I’m playing? I—”
She doesn’t get a chance to say more. Those blue eyes are wide again as I shove her back against the door and yank the top of her dress down. Twin globes burst free, barely ensnared by white lace.
“Oh! Fuck!” she hisses as I pinch her nipple through the fabric of her bra. I shove a knee between her thighs, thrusting a hand between them and push her dress up. Bare wet flesh meets my fingers. Not just wet…she’s fucking dripping. I pump three fingers in to the knuckle, and her eyes fly wide. She’s no virgin, thank God. Then again, with that fucking attitude, what are the chances?
“Is this what you what?” I demand, thrusting up hard, my thumb seeking out her clit.
Her breath rushes out, but she pushes her hips forward, dress hitched around her waist.
“That all you got?” she sneers.
“I think you know what I’ve got, Buttercup. Your hand’s wrapped around it.”
“This thing?” She tugs my shaft. “I was thinking it was just for show.”
