Page 122 of Running from Drac

I’m in control.

I fucking need this right now.

I push him aggressively onto the bed, running my hands up and down his chest, feeling each of the muscles that tighten beneath his skin. He moans as I run my tongue across him, sucking his nipples into my mouth, groaning in frustration while I fight with his belt.

Why won’t this fucking thing come off?

He grabs my wrists and gently pushes me back.

“Ya taste like tequila.”

“So?”

“Means you’re bloody drunk, don’t know what you’re doin’ right now. The booze is pourin’ outta ya, love.”

“Shit happened today I’d like to forget.”

“Is that what this is, then? All that I am to ya? Just some bloke to help ya forget?”

“It’s all I can do right now, Ryder. Now do you want to fuck me or not?”

His brow scrunches as I fiddle with his belt again, tugging at the button on his jeans that’s fighting me even harder than the belt. “Are these things super-glued to you? Fuck. All I want is a little dick, and your jeans are cock-blocking me. I’ve never hated denim more than I do right now.”

“Stop, Amber. This isn’t what I wanted. I wanted ya to pick me, proper. We should take it slow. Do it the right way.”

I shake my head as I rip off his belt and snap it like a whip. This new Amber is hungry. She doesn’t want to talk; she just wants Ryder.

“We could do that,” I grumble, words slightly slurring. “Or we could just fuck like we belong in a psych ward.”

He arches an eyebrow as I seductively remove my shirt, enticing him with slow, teasing movements, rendering him mute and regretfully compliant.

His hands follow the fabric as it goes up, running over my skin until they curl over my breasts and playfully squeeze. He shifts, pulling himself up into a sitting position, so that I’m fully straddling the hard-on hiding behind his jeans.

I knew he wouldn’t say no.

He reaches behind me, unhooking my bra with a single finger, freeing the girls from the imprisonment of shitty wire and flimsy fabric that dares to cover them. He discards it onto the floor, leaving nothing but air between us. He doesn’t hesitate to suck my nipple, slowly rolling his tongue around it.

A moan rips out of me as his hands fight their way up my back and curl into the hair near the nape of my neck. Pulling hard, our mouths meet in a tumultuous kiss, one that has my toes curling as his free hand kneads and paws at my breasts.

Clothes hit the floor until the only thing left between us is my black lace thong. With one jerk, he has it shredded, the flimsy fabric falling to the floor in sad pieces.

A gasp escapes my lips, but it melts into a moan the moment his fingers slide between my thighs.

He’s rough and greedy, like he’s been starving for me. As if the thought of me under someone else has been driving him to madness. His mouth crashes against mine, our teeth clashing before his tongue claims me, a dark and playful possessiveness ricocheting between us.

He knows why I’m here.

But I won’t let him question why. He doesn’t need to know the details; he just needs to erase them from ever existing.

His hand strokes upward, knuckles grazing my folds before two fingers dip inside me, curling just right. My body responds instantly, my hips rolling, breath catching, pleasure slicing through me like a strike of lightning.

“Already so fuckin’ wet for me,” he growls against my throat, lips brushing that tender spot that makes me whimper. “Ya missed this.”

“I didn’t,” I pant, but my voice betrays me.

His grin is pure sin. “Liar.”

He pushes me down on the bed, fingers still working me, teasing me until my legs turn to jelly. I fall back with a gasp as he drops to his knees, spreads my legs, and disappears…