Page 123 of The Hot Shot

Hands on my knees, I do as he asks. A guttural sound rumbles in his throat, and his gaze settles on where I’m swollen and wet.

“Good girl.”

It should piss me off—what he says, and the way he says it, as if I am in fact his good little girl. But I picture myself stretched out on his bed, my thighs spread wide, pink knee-highs on, and it feels illicit, so hot that I tremble, lift my tits a little higher in the air.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, then settles himself between my legs. He sets his big hand low on my belly, holding me still, his thumb touching my clit. It distracts me, and when he kisses my sex like a man starved, I yelp, my body twitching.

But he doesn’t let me get away. His hand keeps me in place as he goes at me. He licks my sex as if it’s warm candy.

“Finn...” I can’t take it. I throb.

Over the length of my body, his eyes meet mine. “Pinch those tight, little nipples,” he orders between kisses.

My breath grows short, as I lift my hands to my breasts. The first pinch on the aching tips has me moaning.

He grunts in approval. “Give them a tug. Nice and slow.” I do, and my back leaves the mattress as I gasp.

“Good,” he says, his thumb toying with my clit. “Good girl.”

It shouldn’t get me so hot, but it does. My lids flutter, my thighs fall farther open even as I writhe. His gaze slides from mine to focus between my legs. That he’s staring there makes everything more sensitive. I revel in the exposure.

His finger comes up to trace the lips of my sex. He finds my opening and toys with it, dipping in just enough that I feel it, but not enough to satisfy. I whimper, and his gaze flicks to mine before sliding back down. That thick finger sinks in. In and out. Just the tip. Not enough.

“Finn...”

I’m panting harder, my thighs trembling.

He plunges in deeper then pulls back out, and his finger travels downward. He touches the entrance to my ass, and a strangled sound leaves my lips. But he doesn’t move away. He strokes me with the slightest of movements.

When he talks, his voice is rough, but his tone is almost conversational. “You ever taken it in here?”

“No,” I whisper, watching him.

That finger, slick with my desire, pushes just a little. And I nearly choke. It’s so sensitive there, my entire body seizes. He notices and hums low in his throat. He plays with my ass, making me whimper.

“Would you let me take you here one day, Chess?”

It feels so good, wrong, dirty, intense. “Yes,” I say on a garbled breath as sweat breaks out over my skin. Without thought, I push back at his touch, and his finger slips inside me.

I cry out, my hips bucking, and he sinks farther. Finn makes a noise in his throat, and his mouth latches onto my clit. His finger pushes deep, pumping a little.

It undoes me. I’m coming, pinching my nipples so hard they hurt. It’s not enough. I fuck myself on his finger as he sucks me. My orgasm breaks so hard and fast, I collapse, boneless and breathless onto the bed. He lets it ride with soft playful pecks of his lips until my breathing evens.

Slowly, he withdraws his finger and gives me one last kiss before rising.

“I’m dead,” I moan, shivering lightly.

“You’re still breathing.” Finn’s gaze is fierce and hot as he slides down his pants.

His cock is angry and dark.

I shiver again, a pulse of want punching through me. “Barely.”

He climbs on the bed and leans against the headboard, his knee brushing my shoulder. “Get up here and sit on my cock. This won’t take long.”

He is evil. Evil.

And I love it.