Page 4 of Goode to Be Bad

Now, finally, he was fully erect, eight inches of perfection nearly as thick as my wrist. I moved to take him in my mouth again, but he caught my chin with one hand. Applied gentle pressure to lift me to my feet.

“No more of that.” He palmed my breast, flicking my nipple until I hissed in pleasure. “Got other plans.”

I pulled away from his touch, back to the window. Unbuttoned my shorts and wiggled out of them. Naked, writhed up against him. “Oh yeah? What plans would that be, Myles?”

He reached down between my thighs. Felt me, slid a fingertip along my seam. Found my clit, already engorged and sensitive. “Well, first, I think you need to come.”

I swallowed hard as he feathered just a single fingertip over me, swirling in gentle circles. “Keep that up and I will, and soon.”

He brought one of my hands to the apex of my thighs. “Got a better idea. You do it while I go get a condom.”

I used two fingers with gentle pressure, going slow and light as he walked away, his hard ass moving in a delicious rhythm. I bit my lip as I tried to go slow, but my need was a pulsating wildfire within me, nearing crescendo already. I fought it off, and pushed down the need to come. It was futile—I was a hair trigger under the best of circumstances. He was in front of me, swaggering toward me, huge hard cock standing up on end, swaying with each step, waggling at me as he approached, as if that magnificent organ was waving at me, beckoning me. He had a condom in his hand, a gold square packet. I waited for him to approach, till he was inches from me, our skin nearly touching.

I waited.

Drew it out.

Let him want me—let him watch me as my fingers moved in slow circles around my clit. I was buckling, my resistance crumbling under the tsunami of orgasmic pressure rolling within me. My movements deliberately slow, light soft delicate touches, I felt myself rising. Felt my core tightening. Bit my lower lip. Kept my eyes on his, reached one hand to his shoulder to brace myself as I curled forward, knees buckling, spine bowing forward as the climax began to sear and sizzle and bolt through me.

“Myles,” I breathed. “I’m gonna come.”

He snagged my wrist. “Not yet you’re not.”

I growled at him. “Don’t you deny my orgasm, damn you.”

He laughed. “I’m not—switch with me.” He gave me the condom and when I took it, he placed one big finger where mine had been, and he was not so light, not gentle. Not so slow. He pushed me over the edge with a single swipe through my wet center, and then his finger delved into me, gathering my essence and smearing it over me, curling inside me and finding something like a switch, like a button, taking my orgasm from a flicker of a candle to the scorching blaze of the sun. I screamed, knees giving out as the orgasm wrenched through me. Condom forgotten, I knew nothing but the overwhelming nova of climax, and he held me through it, one hand cradling my ass to hold me against him, his wrist pinned between our bodies as he flicked me to ever more spastic heights of delirium, not letting me fade from the orgasm but pushing me through it to something more, something hotter, something wilder.

I came back to earth eventually, still coming, but able to comprehend my place in the universe. Knees shaking, trembling all over, I ripped the condom packet open with my teeth and rolled it onto him.

Myles grabbed my hips and spun me in a circle. Pressed up against the window, I spread my legs apart for him, braced my hands on the glass. He fit two fingers to my opening and guided himself to me. Notched his cock at my entrance. Nuzzled in. Leaned against me, just the fat broad head inside my nether lips. His mouth tickled my ear.

“Ready, Lexie?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Too bad.” He slammed into me, and I screamed.

The glass was cold against my breasts and sex and cheek—I was hard up against it, breasts smashed flat, his hand around my hip, fingering my clit from the front as he slid into me from behind. Dallas was spread out beneath us, far below, and I wondered if anyone could see us—maybe in the building across the street. I liked the idea of an unknown person watching this—it made it thrilling without being an exhibitionist thing. Myles lifted up on his toes, driving into me, and I gasped at the fullness of him inside me, spreading me apart, splitting me until I ached, burned. I would never get used to his cock, how impossibly huge it was. I mean, could the man be any more of a rock star god? Messy hair, beautiful voice, skilled guitar player, and a cock like a horse. And I had every beautiful inch inside me as his hips clapped against my ass.

“Lex, baby,noware you ready?”

I nodded against the glass. “Yeah, Myles. Now I’m ready.”

“Thank fuck.”

Little secret about Myles: he liked to come fast and hard. He could hold out, of course. Had the kind of stamina you’d imagine a man like him would have—he could fuck me all night long and not come until he decided he was ready to. But if I’d already gotten an O or two in, he liked to just let go. He’d give me my orgasm, and then he’d just pound into me without anything like technique or rhythm, just drill and drive and pound until he came.

It was glorious.

This was what he wanted, right now—to know if I was ready for him to cut loose.

I pawed the window, palms stuttering down the glass as Myles pulled back, fluttering a few light soft strokes, teasing me.

And then he slammed into me. Again. Again.

My whole body shook with the force of his thrusts, lifting me involuntarily up onto my toes. He clawed a hand over my breast, clutching one big globe, and the other hand he pressed over my sex, fingers sliding against my clit. Fucking me, kneading my breast, and fingering my clit all at once, in separate rhythms. I was such a lucky girl.

I felt myself rising to the occasion yet again as Myles pounded into me, hard and fast, grunting in my ear.