Page 47 of Up in Smoke (The Bunkhouse #3)
Domineering confidence oozes from his pores. He tosses a condom on the bed near the pillows. I extend my arm, intending to put the bubbly back in its place, but he snatches it from my fingers.
My mouth drops open. When it comes to women, he may not be the player he once was.
But when it comes to me, I don’t think Tripp will ever stop playing games.
He’s too good at it. It exhilarates me, and I force myself to inhale a breath and wait for him to turn me over and spank me for moving while he was undressing and finding a condom.
With a smirk, he lowers to his knees in front of me again. “Lean back. Hands on the bed.”
As usual, my body acts quicker than my brain when it comes to taking orders from this man. I might lick a hot wire fence with a smile on my face if he used that voice on me.
With my arms braced behind me, his eyes linger on my pushed-out chest. After making quick work of removing any leftover gold foil, he groans and touches the tip of the cold glass bottle, still coated with my saliva, to my left nipple.
It hardens instantly, sending a shivering jolt through my body.
I squirm, but his free hand grips the side of my thigh, warning me to stay still.
“Should I put this bottle between your pretty lips?” he asks.
My breaths pick up, but I manage to slowly nod twice. Opening my mouth seems like an obvious next step. He shakes his head.
“Not those lips, honey. Spread your legs.”
Eyes wide and lungs seizing, I do as I’m told. My mouth presses into a firm line as he drags the tip of the bottle down my body.
I should have known Tripp’s unhinged mind knows no limits. I’ve always wanted to bring a few toys into the equation with guys in bed. Something tells me there’s already a future plan for that rolling around in his brain.
A bottle, though? A whimper escapes my throat when the smooth ridges around the rim skim over my clit and through my wet center.
“Tripp,” I whisper. “What the ever-living fuck are you doing?”
He smirks. I exhale deeply and don’t bother fighting my brazen smile. Jesus , I’m as insane as he is.
“You’re beautiful like this.”
Every contradicting sensation competes for my attention.
Soft words. Hard glass. Deep breaths.
His hand on my thigh releases its grip, moving between my legs. Our eyes stay locked when he shamelessly parts my center and creeps the tip of the champagne bottle inside of me.
“My Mesa,” he croons, low and intense. “Beautiful, dirty girl.”
He’s pushing a foreign object into your pussy, but he called you his and said you’re pretty, so it’s fine! my heart cries.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, honey. Isn’t that right?”
There’s no way I can speak with the shortness of my breath right now. The forbidden feeling, even just an inch of it, threatens to wrack my body with shakes. I nod, focusing on the assertive edge in his words and the thumb he’s now moved up to massage my clit.
That makes him lower his chin and smirk again. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from seeing that naughty grin on his face at the exact moment he twists the bottle.
Without pushing it farther in, it teases just past my entrance with more languid twists. His thumb presses hard on the most sensitive nerves in my body.
I want to look down to watch. I want to keep watching his expressions, too. But I have no strength left to stop my head from falling back, my eyes from slamming shut, or my repressed moan from leaving my lips.
Tripp pulls his arm back, effectively removing the bottle with no gentle ease or slow retreat, causing my head to snap forward.
“Now your mouth,” he demands. “Come here.”
My arms are numb when I lift them and scoot toward him. It’s crazed, the way my tongue sticks out and I lean forward. My quick response isn’t just to please him. In fact, it’s selfish, because I’m wound too tight to wait much longer.
I’m craving more fullness—the kind I know only he’ll give me.
The bottle was erotic and brought out an untamed side of me I didn’t know I had.
I’m buzzing right now, and I hope he never stops surprising me like that.
How lucky, to know adventure awaits me around every corner with someone like him.
As insatiably horny as we’re both acting right now, those new corners may already be right here in the room with us, waiting to be explored before the night’s through.
My lips wrap around the green glass opening when he holds the bottle to my mouth.
The forbidden taste is wicked and unlike anything else I’ve ever felt on my tongue. Tripp lifts the bottom until a rush of vibrant, fizzy champagne fills half of my mouth.
The bold mixture swirls together as Tripp sits back on his heels and roughly runs a hand over his face like he can barely handle the sight without exploding. I’ve swallowed most of it when he crashes our lips together.
His tongue sweeps over mine like he’s desperate for the taste. I’m moaning into his mouth and want so badly to kiss longer. When he’s had his fill, he pulls away and nearly crashes the bottle to the bedside table.
He pulls me to stand. The arches of my feet stretch out as I rise to my tiptoes and loop my arms around his neck. His hands roam over my back and hips. Every touch feels heightened from the last twenty minutes of nonstop teasing.
Our lips fuse together, and I open my mouth to invite him inside again. This time, I focus on how he adds to the mix already on my tongue—my favorite flavor: him. I trail my hand over his neck and down his chest, still not satisfied with the small amount I’ve been able to touch him so far.
Just when I reach below his stomach, he breaks away and spins me to face away from him. One of his hands grips my hip. The other lands flat on my upper back and pushes me face down into the mattress.
He kneels on the bed beside me, and a spark of defiance lights in my chest, sensing he’s got more teasing up his sleeve. He’s showing no signs of urgency when it comes to giving me what I want right now. The edging will never stop if I let him continue to have his fun.
I slap my palms on the comforter and push myself up, but my speed is no match for his ridiculously quick reflexes. Tripp sends me right back down with a knee just above the back of my hips.
“That was hot, and I wish I’d let you spit that champagne in my mouth before you swallowed it,” he says, bending over me and gathering my arms behind my back to clasp my hands together in an impossible grip.
I smile against the bed but pretend to escape by thrashing back and forth.
His knee doesn’t budge, and neither does his hand wrapped around my wrists.
The subtle weight he’s putting on my lower back isn’t painful, and I could probably roll away if I really wanted to.
But my deranged side would never. It’s too tantalizing letting him hold me down like this.
“We’ll be so good together, don’t you think?” he insists against the shell of my ear.
“Quit fucking around and let’s find out,” I spit back.
“Should we go out to breakfast to celebrate tomorrow?”
“Tripp. Please !”
“Okay, okay.” He laughs, deep and amused. That makes one of us. “Don’t rush me. I take my role very seriously as your teacher, and skipping steps is not allowed in my classroom.”
My thighs squeeze together, and I briefly consider taking a detour straight toward what he’s insinuating. I knew he’d keep playing with me if I let him. I’ll go along with it so long as he flips me over and finally teaches me how to take his dick.
I’m desperate for it, and I can’t let him drag this out any more than he already has. I’ll implode.
“How about a biology lesson in body parts inserting themselves into others instead of whatever else you’re planning to find around this damn room to fuck me with next?”
He shifts the position of his body away from me and spreads my legs with his knees. I’m squirming to get my hands free when a finger slips right through my slick core from behind.
“Yes, I like that idea,” he agrees, pushing in as far as he can, then twisting it halfway. Just to torment me, he pulls it out, then pushes back in again, adding another finger this time. I nearly convulse as he strokes my inner walls. “Is this what you meant?”
I mumble against the comforter through a moan. “Brat.”
I lift my head and drop it back down just as fast, burying my frustrated scream into the bedding. His fingers are gone again, and I hear a pop that’s suspiciously familiar to the sound he makes when he sucks the taste of me from them.
The mattress dips when he lifts a knee to gently push down my backside again, keeping me pinned down. His body leans to the side for a moment.
Then I hear a wrapper ripping in half.