Page 31 of Red Card (Prescott University #1)

I slam the front door shut with my foot as she drags me through the apartment, only stopping when we make it down the hall.

I open my mouth to speak, and she crashes into me, her lips slamming into mine.

I can taste the minty flavor of her toothpaste as her tongue sweeps along the seam of my lips, demanding access.

Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging me closer to her, and my arms wind around her waist, hauling her tiny body nearer until she’s pressed tightly to my front.

I never expected her to be as brazen as she is, but fuck, I love it.

Although she’s hesitant and explorative in her touch, there’s nothing shy or meek about it. Rory knows exactly what she wants, and even though it might not be something she’s done a thousand times, she’s assured.

Or at least she is with me, and that has a surge of possessiveness swirling in my chest.

My palms slide down the small of her back to the swell of her ass, and she moans into my mouth, pulling roughly at my hair. Something I’m starting to learn she’s into.

Imagine when I’ve got my face buried in between her thighs, lapping at her pussy. How much she’ll love pulling my hair then .

Fuck, I have to slow this down.

I tear my lips from hers, rearing back as I pant.

“Did you ask me to come over just so I could make you come, St. James?” My mouth twitches, drinking in her blown pupils, flushed cheeks that have pink creeping down her neck, and swollen lips.

Her tongue darts out, skimming the bottom one, and I almost say fuck it. Fuck going slow.

I’m so bloody tempted to haul her over my shoulder, carry her into the bedroom, and not let her out until the sun rises and she’s come ten times.

On my tongue, my fingers, my cock.

“Why are you stopping?” she asks, peering up at me with her hands resting on my stomach. Her fingers slip beneath the fabric of my hoodie and trail down my abs, causing them to tighten and coil beneath her touch.

The little bit of restraint I have left is slowly fraying, but goddamn it I’m trying.

“Because… I want to talk.”

Her brow knits together. “Talk about what?”

I grab her hands and pull them from beneath my shirt before capturing her wrists in my palms. “Because there’s no rush.”

I want her so bloody badly that my cock aches. I’m fucking yearning for her, but if I’m going to sink inside her, I want there to be absolutely no doubt that this is what she wants.

She’s inexperienced, and I’m not a complete arsehole.

“Come here,” I rasp, tugging her to me by her wrists. “Let’s go sit.”

We walk to the couch, and I sink down into the cushion, pulling her with me until she’s seated in my lap.

“Okay, then let’s talk ,” she says, emphasizing on the word. I hesitate briefly, and she huffs. “Out with it.”

Chuckling, I say, “Aisling wants you to come over tomorrow for dinner.”

Rory’s eyes widen and her dark brow arches. “You interrupted a seriously hot make-out session to tell me your sister wants me to come over for… dinner?”

“And other things.”

“And those things are?” Her gaze holds mine intently, and I sigh.

“I just want you to be sure. Before we go any further,” I finally say. I have no idea why I’m hung up on this and holding out, but I think it’s because I don’t want to be the bloke who hurts her. The thought of hurting her makes my stomach twist into knots.

It’s truthfully the only time in my life that I’ve cared enough about someone to put them first, outside of my mum and sister.

And I do care about Rory, casual hookup or not. She’s my… friend.

She groans exasperatedly. “Cillian. I am a thousand precent sure that I want you to fuck me. Is that what you need to hear?” When I don’t immediately respond, she says, “Yes, I’ve only had sex twice.

And yes, they were admittedly horrible and not worth the memory, but that doesn’t mean that I need to be handled with care.

I’m not delicate. I’m not breakable. I want you to fuck me like you would any other girl.

I want you to stop holding back and fucking touch me. ”

The words are barely out of her mouth before I’m crushing my lips to hers, my hands sliding into her hair as I tug her closer and groan against her mouth when her hips rock against my hardening cock.

I pull back, staring at her for the first time tonight.

I’ve been so caught up in doing the right bloody thing that I didn’t even notice what she was wearing when she answered the door.

A faded blue, worn rugby T-shirt that has ridden high on her creamy thighs, revealing a pair of bright yellow panties that barely cover her pussy.

Bloody fucking hell.

Her tiny little clit peeks through the fabric, and I can make out the entire shape of her already wet pussy.

“You’re driving me bloody crazy, woman.”

“Then do something about it, or I guess I’ll have to take it into my own hands,” she retorts with a sassy bite that makes me want to put her over my knee and spank the fuck out of her, until her arse is blooming red from my hand.

“Keep taunting me, baby.”

Rory’s eyes darken as she rolls her lip between her teeth before letting it go with a flick. My gaze drops to her mouth, lingering there before I lean forward and kiss her. I nip at her lip, drawing it into my mouth and sucking.

When her head drops back on her shoulder, exposing her throat, I continue trailing hot, wet kisses along her neck, sucking on her pulse point down to the curve of her shoulder until she’s a writhing, shaking mess in my arms. Her hips jerk against my cock, desperate for friction, and the moment she reaches between us, curving her palm over my erection through my sweatpants, my hand circles her wrist, stopping her.

She pulls back, staring at me with a stunned expression.

“Tonight’s not about me. It’s about you.” My mouth twitches when her brow furrows deeper.

Instead of answering, I carefully lay her back on the couch beside me, hovering my massive body over her delicate frame. She’s so bloody tiny, part of me is scared I’ll fucking break her. My hands and body are meant to be used as a weapon, to take men three times her size to the ground.

“Let me make you feel good, Rory.”