Clipped by Love Page 64


Biting into my lip to keep from crying out and letting the rink know I am getting the greatest pleasure of my life, I close my eyes, moving my pussy along his face. When he pulls back, I whimper, wanting the release I so desperately need.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll come, but with me in you.”

“Never happens,” I say as he pushes his body against mine. His eyes hold mine; they are full of heat and all things dirty.

“It will today,” he says almost like a promise.

“You can try,” I say breathlessly with a chuckle. “But no one has succeeded.”

He bites into my lip and his eyes burn into mine as I gasp. “Why do you insist on challenging me all the fucking time?”

I smile, running my nose along his, sharing the same breath. “Because I know you like it.”

“I do. A lot,” he whispers, kissing me long and hard as his fingers dance along the back of my knee. I’ve never come during sex, but when he opens his eyes, meeting my gaze, I feel like I might with him.

And that excites me to no end.

Digging his fingers into the back of my knee, he kisses me again, and I close my eyes, getting lost in the kiss. He kisses like a dream. His lips are so talented, just like the rest of him, and I don’t want him to stop. Ever. When he finally moves his cock to my entrance, I suck in a deep breath before his eyes meet mine. With a grin tugging at his lips, he slowly pushes all the way into me, taking my breath with each disappearing inch of him. Crying out when he reaches the hilt, I wrap my arms tightly around his neck as he lifts my other leg, his fingers biting into me, but I don’t care.

I need it.

I hold him inside me and we both take in a breath, looking deep into each other’s eyes.

“Remember when I said you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen?”

Biting my lip, I nod slowly. He smiles, coming in close, his lips only a breath away as he whispers, “I wasn’t joking. But seeing you now, like this, I’m convinced that I’ll never be able to see anyone but you.”

“Always a way with words,” I say, and he grins.

“What can I say, you bring out the poet in me.”

Kissing my nose, he then presses his lips to mine, and something moves in my chest and snaps. Not sure what it is, and I can’t even label it right now, but I feel like something has happened. Something has changed.

And it scares me.

But then he is slamming into me, and I’m done thinking. Over and over again, our bodies slapping together in the most delicious way as I cry out with each thrust. It hurts, it feels good, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. When he grazes his teeth along my neck, I squeeze him. And like he thought I would, I come all over his cock. For the first time ever. That should tell me something, that this is something, but no way am I touching that. Instead, I dig my nails into his back as he thrusts into me, taking my breath away. Filling me in the most perfect way. The way I’ve craved for years.

When he comes, I feel like I can’t breathe as he groans against my neck, my name falling from his lips in the loveliest way. Closing my eyes, I welcome his weight as he leans into me, his cock pulsating inside me. We don’t move. I can feel his heart beating hard in his chest, and mine is doing the same. Opening my eyes, I look up at the ceiling as I gasp for breath. Kissing up my throat and then my jaw, he brings my face down so his mouth can connect with mine.

As we kiss, my body trembles, and I can’t believe this just happened. When he pulls back, I open my eyes, meeting his gaze as he flashes me a sweet little grin that hits me straight in the gut. His eyes tell me this was more than just sex. Hell, I knew that, but how could I have been so fucking stupid? I may have wanted this, I did want this, but I don’t want what he does.

Oh my God, or do I?

Holy shit.

That was the best sex of my life.

Like my whole life.

But damn it!

She wants to dip out on me.

I can see it in her eyes. She’s freaking out and that really pisses me off. For once, she let go, and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. But now, she regrets it all. I don’t though, not even in the slightest. I don’t care that she is scared or freaked out; it was amazing, and she isn’t taking that from me. Our bodies just fit. We were perfect, she was amazing, and man, she is so beautiful. Her face is rosy, her hair is falling from her ponytail in a very messy way that brings out her eyes. Her body is splotchy from her arousal, and her lipstick is practically gone. She looks every bit a girl who has been done right, and I won’t allow her to ruin that.

But I’ll let her run. She has to think this through. I get that. She’s a thinker and a planner, and everything has to be in line for her or she freaks. She has to realize she wants me, and that’s fine. I’ll give her the space she needs, but nothing says I have to like it. I’ve never in my twenty years had this problem. Girls love me. I’m funny, I’m hot, and I’m very charming. I’m also very hard to resist. But this girl, man, she is fighting me tooth and fucking nail!

Damn it.

Pulling out of her hot center, I press my lips to hers, enjoying the taste of her since I’m not sure when I’ll get to do this again. She tastes like strawberry bubble gum, and I didn’t realize how much I craved it until this moment. She feels so good in my arms, and I really don’t want to let her go, but I know I have to or she’ll stab me.

As I part from her, she looks up at me shyly and smiles. “I don’t really cuddle.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure, you don’t.”

Placing her feet on the ground, she brings her hands up to cover herself as she reaches for her shorts and T-shirt. We dress in silence, but I can hear her thinking of what she is going to say to me. It’s kind of funny, seeing her shyly bite into her lip as her hands shake while she puts her shirt on, trying to avoid all eye contact. I don’t know why she is doing this. I’m the easiest dude to talk to, or at least I think I am. Still, she cracks me up with her uneasiness. She’s usually so confident, but with me, she turns into the girl she really is. It’s refreshing, and I have to say, I love this side of her.

When I look down to see everything of mine on the floor, I scoff before bending down to pick it all up.

“Who’s that?” she asks when I reach for the picture of my niece.

Looking up at her, even though she won’t meet my gaze, I say, “My niece, Angie.”

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