Page 62 of A Wreck, You Make Me (Bad Boys of Bardstown #3)

“My dick,” he says. “The vein on the underside of it.”

“There’s a v-vein on the…”

“There is, yeah,” he tells me. “And every time you’re close, it fucking throbs like a maniac.”

I lick my lips, fascinated. “You mean like, m-my pulse. On my neck.”

“Yeah. Just like that,” he says. “And you know why it does that?”

“Why?”

“Because I always knew it. I always knew you’d feel like a dream. And you do. You feel like a fucking dream, baby”

“Oh.”

“You know I have dreamed about this, don’t you?” he asks, his tone hypnotic.

“Yes.”

“I have. A million times,” he goes on. “I’ve dreamed about sliding into you. Stretching you out. Stretching out your tight, tight, so fucking tight pussy.”

His words stutter at the end and I know he must be so close to losing patience. And I know for a fact, he isn’t a patient man. But he’s being that, for me. He’s being patient and gentle and so fucking good for me too.

So it’s only fair I tell him that. “Y-you’re being good too.

His chest shudders then as he chuckles, without much humor though. “Yeah?”

“For me.”

Another harsh breath. Then, “So you don’t hate me?”

It sounds so boyish, this question, coming out of his mouth that my heart squeezes inside my chest. It cracks a little bit, in the center and all my emotions bleed out as I whisper, “I could never hate you.”

He untucks his face from my neck and looks at me, his features hard and sweaty, his eyes dark and drugged. “Not even if I tell you that your pussy is sucking me in so good, I could come. Just like that. I could come inside of you right now and all you have to do is tell me you’re my good girl.”

“But I-I am your good girl,” I whisper.

And he jerks against me, inside of me, his eyes clenching shut. “Fuck, don’t.”

I know I should’ve felt pain at that, at his sudden movement and I did. But it’s easier to focus away from it. It’s easier to focus on him. On his loss of control and I whisper again, “But I’m also your slut.”

He jerks again and moans.

So I keep going, “And I’ll do anything you want me to. I’ll do anything you m-make me do and I’ll love it. I’ll l-love it so much, Shepard and I?—”

“Fuck, stop,” he groans, his dick pulsing inside me now in a constant rhythm. “I still n-need to make it good for you.”

I moan and arch my back slightly. “You a-already are. You?—”

“Not enough,” he says. “Not when this is the exact spot.”

“What spot?”

“Where you spoke to me for the first time.”

“The night of your?—”

“Yeah,” he cuts me off as if he doesn’t want me to say it. He doesn’t want any reminders of that when we’re doing this. When we’re so close. When he’s throbbing inside of me.

I tug at his hair then. “You told me to stay away from you that night.”

“Yeah,” he goes, his eyes all molten. “Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you if you ever came near me. And I…”

“You what?”

He licks his lips and it makes me needy. It makes me want him to do what we should be doing instead of whispering sweet nothings to each other up against the tree.

“Wanted to do what we’re doing right now,” he replies.

My eyes go wide, and my hips jerk again, my channel getting wetter. “You w-wanted to have sex with me up against the tree?”

His eyes rove over my flushed features, his thumb caressing my cheek. “Get as close as humanly possible to this beautiful girl with strawberry hair and cinnamon freckles that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since the first moment I saw her in my sister’s backyard.”

A few moments pass where we simply stare at each other. Where he studies my face and I study his. Where he’s hard and hot inside of me and my channel is all juicy and soft wrapped around him. Where his chest still moves in the same rhythm as mine.

Then, licking my lips, “Shepard?

“Yeah, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

At this, his eyes go alert and his thumb stops caressing my cheek.

His jaw pulses and his nostrils flare. And before I can take another breath, his lips come down on mine and he’s kissing me and kissing me and I kiss him back.

I kiss him back with all the love in my heart and even though I know he’s not ready for that. I don’t care.

I don’t care if this is my first time or how badly it hurt when he entered me.

He took care of it just like I knew he would.

I may have been scared in the beginning and wanted to stop but I don’t now.

I never want to stop. So I move. I grind my hips against his, and even though it smarts a little and my pussy feels sore, I keep doing it.

I push past the pain. I push past the discomfort and be good for him, brave for him.

Because he’s been so good for me too. And he rewards my efforts by moving against me.

By hunching against me in a way that hits my clit with every stroke.

And then we’re dancing together.

We’re making music with our breaths and moans, with the beats of our hearts.

With his words, his raspy voice that tells me I’m his good girl.

I’m his brave, brave girl. That I’m the girl he dreams about, he thinks about.

And he knew it would be this good but he never knew how good.

He never knew I’d change his life with my pussy.

His words are like aphrodisiac, something that makes me feel so good but also so hungry and horny.

His words make me clench around him as he slides in and out, in and out, just like the breaths we were taking together.

And soon, I’m a writhing mess. I’m moaning and panting and kissing, so close to coming around his cock that anything could send me over the edge in this moment.

But what does is when he abruptly breaks the kiss only to sink his teeth into my pulse.

To taste me there while he’s feeding me his dick down below.

And it’s such an ‘us’ moment: sweet and dirty, full of soft butterflies and sharp teeth, full of roses and thorns, juicy strawberries and toxic snakes that I fall.

Fall and fall and fall even deeper, making him fall inside of me too.