Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (interesting books to read txt) 📕

her waist and then dipped lower, cupping her ass and pressing her against him. She made the sexiest purring sound in the back of her throat and wriggled against him as they kissed, his dick almost impossibly hard. Aching for her. Needing her in a way he’d never needed anyone.

“God, you’re so hard,” she rasped, wriggling against him again, making him clench his jaw in restraint. “I like you in elevators.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Because you turn me on so fucking much, Willa. I don’t think you have any idea how sexy you are.”

She pulled back a little, her cheeks pink. “You think I’m sexy?” She shook her head. “No one’s ever called me sexy before. Cute, adorable, even pretty, but…not hot. Not sexy.”

He made a low growling sound and picked her up as the elevator doors opened soundlessly onto his penthouse. “I think you’re the sexiest woman on the goddamned planet, angel.” He kissed her again, holding her against him, her legs wound around his waist. The kiss started sweet and slow but soon morphed into something hotter and much more urgent.

She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers playing in his hair as he started making his way to his bedroom. Her eyes went soft and the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Angel. No one’s ever called me that before.”

A surge of possessiveness rocked him, making him tighten his grip on her and walk faster. She bent her head, kissing and nipping along his neck, sending a tingling shiver down his spine.

“I think you’re sexy, too, Max. You’re so unbelievably sexy.” She nibbled on his earlobe, sending a current shooting straight to his already aching balls. His mind jumped back to that night two months ago, when he’d carried her down this same hallway just like this, her small body wound around his, but this, here, now, it wasn’t the same. This time, she was his. This time, he got to keep her. This time, they could have the morning he’d wanted to give her last time.

He stepped into his dark bedroom and set Willa down, savoring the slide of her body against his as he lowered her to the floor.

“Turn around,” he whispered, and she did. Slower than he would’ve thought he was capable of, he lowered the zipper of her dress, watching as she shrugged out of it and it pooled at her feet. She wasn’t wearing a bra, only a pair of black lace panties. He groaned at the sight of her bare back and tugged her against him, her ass snug against his throbbing cock. Skimming his hands up over her ribs, he cupped her small breasts, relearning the feel of them, the hard tips of her nipples begging for attention. Kissing a path across her neck and shoulders, he stroked the backs of his fingers over her breasts and then cupped them again, massaging them slowly. From the way her breathing changed and how she moved her hips against him, he could tell she liked it. He loved uncovering what turned her on, what made her wet, what made her come. Making her feel good made him feel worthy of her. As though if he gave her enough orgasms, she might forget that he’d hurt her. That he wasn’t quite whole.

“Your breasts are so sensitive,” he said, still massaging. Then, he dragged the palm of his hand back and forth over her nipples. She gasped and then moaned, so he did it again, and again. Her entire body was rigid against him, her breathing labored.

“Mmmhmm,” she murmured.

“Can you come like this?” he asked, then rolled her nipples gently between his fingers. Her back arched sharply, like she’d just been shocked. Rolling was good, he noted. He tried a light pinch and she shuddered, her head moving back and forth.

“With you, maybe,” she panted out. “Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not going anywhere, angel,” he said, adding a bit more pressure and rolling her nipples again. She whimpered and squirmed against him, her thighs rubbing together. Wanting to build her up more, he backed off, returning to massaging her breasts, rubbing his palms over her nipples. He did it again and again, rolling and pinching, twisting and even tugging on her nipples before retreating, kissing her neck and shoulders, scraping his teeth over her earlobes. Her arms and legs were shaking and she couldn’t seem to hold her hips still.

“Suck me, please. I’m on fire and I need your mouth.”

He turned her around and led her to the bed, where he sat down on the edge and tugged her between his legs, his arms around her waist, palms splayed across her bare back. When he glanced up at her, his dick jumped in his pants. Her eyes were dark and bright, her cheeks pink, her lips parted, her skin flushed. She looked so incredibly gorgeous in her arousal that he almost couldn’t process it. And she was his. Fucking hell. It felt like a small miracle that she was here, after the way he’d treated her. Holding her eyes, he leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. She moaned, her back arching as she wove her fingers into his hair.

“More,” she begged, her voice thin and breathy. “I need more.”

He turned his attention to her other breast, swirling his tongue over and around her nipple, flicking at it, teasing it. He moved a hand to her breast, rolling and tugging at her nipple. Her shaking intensified, and he scraped his teeth over her nipple. She screamed, her fingers tight in his hair, so he did it again, twisting the other one in time with his scraping bites.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned. “I’m gonna…I think…don’t stop.”

He flicked her nipple while biting the other one and she broke, collapsing against him with a moaning sob, her entire body trembling. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, slow and gentle, swallowing her soft moans. After a few moments, her shaking started