Low Sided by A.J. Downey (best detective novels of all time txt) 📕

wallet and chains drag them past his knees, stepping on the cuffs and dragging his legs out of them, all while he kept his lips firmly melded to mine.

He pulled me against him once more, the second he was free of his pants and socks and I was less shy about things, pressing myself tight, letting my own hands wander over his heated skin, desperate to touch as much as be touched.

He slid fingers up my back, tucking them under the bottom band of my bra, sliding them around to my sides.

“Arms up?” he asked against my mouth and I whimpered, knowing it would pull his lips from mine but complying with the request. He pulled the restrictive garment up over my head and took the time to look at me, groaning as his gaze swept over my chest, my nipples tightening in the chill of my apartment.

He lowered his mouth to the hollow of my throat and pressed a kiss there that was chaste at first, flickering his tongue against my skin, dragging it down before tucking it back between his lips and gently scraping me between my breasts with his teeth in a delightful nip that made me throw back my head and shiver in delight as I let out my breath on a throaty little, “Oh!”

I dropped my head and looked at him, meeting his gaze that was rolled up to mine as he took the majority of my left breast into his mouth, teasing the point of my nipple with his velvet tongue, sending whole body shivers through me, his arms locked around me, holding me tight, holding me up as my knees threatened to buckle.

“Mace!” I gasped in warning as they did, but he had me, taking his mouth from me and lowering me carefully to my bed.

“I’ve gotcha baby,” he breathed, and I believed him. He climbed over me, kissing his way back to my mouth, settling between my thighs, grinding softly against me, showing me how hard he was, grunting at the contact, closing his eyes and turning his head slightly as though listening to the sweetest music he had ever heard, and in truth, perhaps he had… whatever music his own body made for him at my touch.

I lay back, and he kissed me, one arm delving behind my shoulder and back, his hand cradling my head lovingly. The other, drifting over my skin, grabbing my hip, holding me as he rolled his hips against mine and groaned. I watched his handsome face, his strong features smooth out in bliss and I felt something I don’t think I’ve ever felt before… cherished, special.

I wrapped my legs around him tight and dragged his mouth to mine and kissed him fiercely. I let go of my false apprehensions. I knew real when I saw it, and this was something so very real, so tangible, the emotions shimmering between us almost something I could touch if I wanted to.

He reached down between us and slid his boxers off. God, he was beautiful. Long, not overly thick, and cut, the head of his cock a deep red and richly engorged, throbbing in time with what I could only assume was his heartbeat. I gazed at his body, hungry to have it against mine, positively starving to have him fill me; to feel him inside of me.

“Oh, fuck…” he whispered, and I looked up. The raw need and heat in his gaze made my body respond in ways I couldn’t even imagine. Without hesitation, I slipped my fingers into the waistband of my panties at either hip and took them down.

He helped me whisk them down and off my legs the rest of the way and with a light-fingered touch gazed upon me, letting his eyes feast on me the way mine had feasted on his only moments before. He groped off the side of the mattress that I had long thought of as ‘his’ ever since his stay here and pulled a box from the top of his backpack. He tore it open, ripping a condom from the line of them and tearing open the package with his teeth.

He took the slippery rolled rubber disc and made himself ready for me, asking me as I watched him slide the condom on, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, nodding.

“I don’t care if I’m mid-stroke,” he said, dropping back down over the top of me, brushing the loose hair off the side of my face, gazing deep into my eyes. “You tell me to stop, I’m going to stop,” he whispered and swallowed hard. I swallowed hard myself and nodded.

“I mean it, baby. You tell me to stop, I stop,” he whispered.

I nodded and feeling like he needed to hear it, hear something from me by way of understanding I whispered, “Got it.”

He swept his eyes over my face, and kissed me gently, sweetly, turning the heat back up between us until I was wriggling beneath him, silently begging for more.

He reached between us, his other arm back beneath me, cradling my head in his hand, massaging my scalp some, hand buried in my tresses as he met my eyes with his and breathing heavy, asked me, “Yeah?”

I nodded, whispering, “Yeah.”

He smiled at me and pressed the head of his cock into my wet and waiting pussy slowly.

I gave myself over to surrender and tipped my head back, moaning, breaths short, body arching lightly into his as he filled me. He let himself go, bringing his other arm up to brace himself, staring down at me, eyes passionate burning embers, his gaze a warm, almost physical touch all its own where it swept over me.

He was careful with his thrusts at first, his cock feeling so good, pressing out against my walls, setting off all manner of sweet sensation inside me as he put a little twist into his hips as he worked himself inside me.

I bit my bottom lip and panted, holding onto him tightly, pulling him down over