Page 95 of Goode to Be Bad

I blinked at him, lazily sultry, smiling. “Come here and show me.”

He prowled toward me, cock swaying and growing with each step. Muscles shifting under his skin. Eyes devouring me. He was a vision of male beauty, dominant alpha sexual aggression that combined perfectly with sweetness and understanding. I wanted him more than ever—wanted to kiss every inch of him and hold him and be held, wanted to ride him and be under him. Wanted to feel him inside me and hear him whisper three words…

And whisper them back.

We crawled onto the bed and he paused at my thighs.

I reached for him, bringing him up to me. “No, not that, not now.” I cupped the back of his head and pulled at him—he knew what I wanted, what I needed, and he kissed me.

Kiss isn’t the word.

His mouth sang against mine, a song without sound, a melody of lips and tongues and teeth, and the chorus was his soul matching mine. I let myself want nothing but to kiss him. To feel just this—love through lips. He knew it, and didn’t push us past it. Just kissed me, and kissed me. I scoured his hard shoulders and broad back with my hands, dug my fingers into his hair and ran my nails down his spine. He braced over me with one hand and held my face with the other, a gesture of such sweet possessive intimacy that it stole my breath—I didn’t need to breathe, because he was the oxygen in my lungs. I clutched at the hard taut bubble of his buttocks and spent a few moments there, just enjoying the feel of it in my hands, cupping and squeezing, digging my nails in and just petting it for the beautiful thing it was. He just kissed me. As if we’d never kissed, as if everything that had happened between us had been a dream, a rehearsal, and this, finally, was the real thing.

Each moment the kiss went deeper, and the deeper we went the more my heart opened. Blossomed. Brightened, as if the sun was finally rising—no, that’s not right. The sun has always been shining, I’d just had the shutters and blinds closed all this while. He kissed me, and put all his soul and all his heart and all his love into the kiss, and the shutters and blinds of my heart opened. Burned away, so the sun could finally shine in and brighten the corners and chase away the shadows.

His love was the sun.

I let my eyes burn with it, with a molten swell of emotions that was beyond happiness, beyond joy.

He finally came up for breath and saw the tears on my cheeks. Wiped them away with his thumb. “What’s this?”

“Good,” I breathed, stopping him from wiping them away. “It’s good.”

That was all I had words for.

The rest had to be shown.

I knew what I wanted, and I knew exactly how I wanted it. I pushed gently at his shoulder, and he rolled to his back. He knew where I was going with it—his hands gripped my waist and as I rolled he lifted, and then settled me on his belly. He stared up at me.

“This okay?” I whispered.

He ran his hands up my thighs, over my waist, up my sides—cupped my breasts. “More than okay.”

I held his eyes, hoped he saw in them the fullness of what I felt shining out. I leaned forward, braced my palm on his chest. Lifted my hips. Bit my lip, eager for this and a little nervous as well. I reached between my thighs and found him, thick and hard and ready; took a moment to appreciate the feel of him in my hand, plunging my fist down around him, thumb and forefinger leading the way to his root. He let out a gruff moan.

“Love the way you touch me, Lex.”

I just stroked him. “Like this?”

“God, yeah.”

His hands roamed over my shoulders, down my back. Curled over to cradle my ass. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful, Lex. You take my breath away.”

I laughed, taking my time touching him, enjoying the feel of him; drawing out the moment I would take him naked inside me, nothing between us. “I take your breath away, do I?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let me give it back.” I sealed my mouth to his, bent over him with my breasts pressed against his chest.

He growled, and I moaned, because one of his hands had left my ass and was sneaking its way to my sex, finding my clit and circling gently.

God, I didnotneed the head start this time.

I couldn’t wait anymore. Didn’t want to. The fear of being with him bare was gone. Residual nerves, sure. But I knew he loved me, and this time I was choosing this.

I guided him to my slit, snugged him inside me, just barely within me.

“Hold on, wait,” he murmured.