Page 41 of Something Reckless

Gently clasping my jaw, he directs my attention so I’m looking at him. “You sure you can do that for me? You sure you won’t make too much noise?” There’s a challenging smirk on his sexy lips.

I nod again, more vigorously this time.

“Good,” he whispers, and his fingers slide beneath the cotton of my panties.

“Oh my god…” I hiss out, as his hand begins to work. Stroking. Rubbing. Playing in my wetness.

Sitting side by side on the porch bench, Easton wraps his left arm around my middle, cradling and massaging my breasts. His other hand is still between my legs, treating me to sensations I’ve never experienced before.

The whole while, my eyelids are pinched close, my lip is clamped between my teeth and I’m doing everything in my power to remain silent.

But then, Easton begins flicking my clit—back and forth, back and forth—with his thumb, and I break, emitting a primitive moan.

I snap out of the moment, instantly awash in guilt. “Shit. I’m sorry. I—”

Easton’s mouth covers mine before I can finish my apology, and I melt back into him once more. The man is playing me like an instrument. He knows exactly which cords to pluck and which notes to strike, and I’m helpless in the whole thing.

“Panties off, baby.” His whisper vibrates against my lips.

“What…?” I whisper back. My eyes blink open, meeting his.

“Take your panties off, Alba. I’m about to make you come.”

I want to argue with him. I mean—is shedding my underwear really necessary? I’m already on the edge. It won’t take much more work for him to get me there.

But his unwavering stare tells me to just follow his instructions. This man knows what he’s doing. He’s the teacher and I’m the student tonight.

Chewing on my lip, I ease off the bench, wiggling my hips to slide my underwear down my legs. Easton takes the damp scrap of fabric from my hand.

“Open,” he commands.

My eyes widen in shock .

“Open your mouth, Alba,” he repeats. “I can’t have you screaming and waking up the entire neighborhood in the middle of the night. Now open your mouth”—his eyes twinkle—“like a good girl.”

Fuck. I want to be his good girl. I want that so very much.

I do as I’m told and Easton shoves my panties inside my mouth, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The aroma of my arousal fills my head and a wave of tingles crashes through my body.

Before I’ve figured out what’s going on inside me, the man is on his knees, draping the blanket over his head and burying his face between my legs. I grind against his mouth and he devours me, holding nothing back.

A scream tears from my throat, but the sound is muffled by the wad of cotton in my mouth. My hands grasp at Easton’s head and I clutch a handful of his hair through the blanket, recklessly working my hips.

Oh my god. Yes. His mouth is on my pussy, kissing my nether lips just as passionately as he kissed my mouth only moments ago.

“Christ. You taste so fucking sweet, Alba.” His breathing sputters. “The sweetest girl with the sweetest pussy. How’d I get so lucky?”

He pulls my legs over his shoulders and his tongue parts my folds, spearing into the depths of my channel. He groans against me and the sound sends shockwaves through my entire system.

Fuck. I’m about to come.

My body responds by arching roughly. My head falls back against the glass of my living room window, my spine curves, my legs clamp around Easton’s cheeks. I fear I’m going to suffocate him but I’m not in control of my body anymore.

Instead of pulling away, Easton only flings the blanket to the floor, exposing me completely as he works me harder. He’s panting, groaning, like he’s getting as much out of this as I am.

Sweat pours down his face, plastering his dark, gorgeous hair to his forehead. My pussy is making these wet, sucking sounds that should embarrass me. But I’m so busy falling over the edge that I’ve lost all sense of decency.

Holy fucking goddamn shit!!!

Something inside me contracts.

Then everything inside me explodes.

And waves and waves of breath-stealing ecstasy wash over me. It’s like nothing I have ever experienced in my entire time on this earth.

Easton doesn’t stop eating me. He just keeps going. He just keeps going as I climax.

When my thigh muscles finally release, I spit my panties out of my mouth and muster up the strength to give Easton a weak push backward. The man emerges from between my legs.

Mouth drenched. Forehead sweaty. Victory in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Easton…” is all I can mutter.

Wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he settles on the bench beside me again, wrapping his arms around me. “Are you okay?”

My chest heaves as I struggle to wrap my mind around what I just experienced. This? This is what I’ve been missing out on all these years? Damn.

Allowing my weak body to sag against his, I bury my face in the curve of his neck and smile breathlessly to myself. “I think so…” I hear myself mumble .

But I’m really not sure if I’m okay. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be okay again.

Because— Wow!

I listen to the sound of Easton’s heart pounding. I hear the way it gradually slows from a roaring, erratic drum to a mellow, rhythmic beat. Everything is wet and the smell of sex lingers in the air, intoxicating me.

Eventually, Easton pulls back slightly, allowing his lips to sweep across my forehead. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

He picks up the discarded blanket and my ruined panties from the wooden floor. Then he opens the door and ushers me inside. I head down the darkened hallway, my heart thumping with anticipation as he follows me into the small bathroom.

Unsure of what Easton has planned, I reach for a clean rag on the shelf.

“Let me.” He takes the cloth from my hand, dampening it with warm water from the sink.

With his hands on my hips, he backs me against the wall, looming above me. He gently wipes the sweat from my forehead, neck and chest. The heated way his eyes follow the trail of the rag makes goosebumps rise all over my skin.

Then Easton shocks the shit out of me when he lowers to his knees and hikes my leg over his shoulder. His eyes explore my womanhood slowly while he thoroughly cleans me between the thighs.

Oh…my…god.

I can’t help but whimper. By the time he stands to his feet, I’m becoming a horny mess all over again. He drops the damp rag onto the edge of my bathtub.

“I need to get going,” he says, his normally smooth voice, rough like gravel tonight .

“Maybe you could…stay,” I hear myself suggest.

I want him so badly. Virgin or not, if he took me to my bedroom right now, I would give him anything he asked me to. And judging by the hardness that I’m squirming against at the moment, I’m fairly certain he wants me, too.

More than that, I want to fall asleep with his arms around me, with my cheek on his chest, with his lips on my forehead. I crave the intimacy.

“Sorry, Tiny Tiger,” he mutters against my swollen lips. “I’ve already crossed so many lines. I wouldn’t be a very good genie if I took things any further right now.”

Fuck. He’s right.

Pulling his hair and coming all over his face is not exactly what I had in mind when I requested that we make out on the porch tonight. Maybe we do need to slow it down.

When I stick out my lip and pout, he kisses me one last time. His tongue darts into my mouth. I suck hungrily on it, feral at the lingering taste of sex in his mouth.

“Next time, you’ll get to pick your second fantasy,” he promises me as he reluctantly pries himself away.

“Fine,” I say, sounding a little grumpy to my own ears.

Easton chuckles quietly. “Good night, Tiny Tiger.”

I sigh like a hopeless fool. “Good night, Mr. Tower.”

Reluctantly, I let him walk away, watching from the front window as Easton goes down the stairs and climbs into his car.

When he pulls away from the curb, I finish getting ready for bed, making sure to go in search of some fresh batteries for my vibrator. I’m going to need them tonight. I swear, I’ve never felt so hot and needy. These last few weeks with Easton around have been brutal.

Before I can switch out the batteries, my phone dings with a new email.I consider ignoring it because— hello, impending orgasm! —but something pulls me to check it.

My heart skips a beat when I see that it’s the results of my realtor exam. I hurriedly click on the message, only to wish I never opened it.

I failed.

Again.