Breaching His Defenses by Allyson Lindt (me reader .TXT) 📕

“Better than just okay?” His warm breath teased her skin.

“Better than chocolate.” She managed to find her footing enough to spin and face him. She made a point of studying him. “But I don’t want to make a habit of this.”

His brows rose in response.

He thinks I mean the sex. Which she should, but she didn’t. She worked her fingers into the knot of his tie, loosening it. “I don’t mind being naked in front of you.” Understatement of the decade. That thought alone was enough to make her even wetter. “But you can’t stay mostly dressed all the time.”

She kicked her shoes and skirt into the rapidly growing pile and tossed his tie on top of it all. He hissed when her nails trailed down his chest, undoing each button in her way.

She dropped her hands to his waist, only fumbling with the belt for a moment before undoing the buckle, then sliding his zipper down. She grasped his shaft, and his growl filled her head. His hot skin seared her cool palm. She worked him free as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

Her tongue flicked over the bulbous head in front of her, licking a drop from the tip. The salty taste flooded her tongue. His fingers tangled in her hair. She took the hint and wrapped her lips around him, taking his length into her mouth and sliding down.

He rocked against her face, grip tightening as his breathing grew shallow. “Jesus.” His voice was strained. “That metal ball on my cock. You’re killing me.”

He caught her wrists, grip tight, and pulled her to her feet. His gaze locked on hers, eyes dark and holding her captive. He pulled her nearer, lips hovering close enough to her ear for his breath to tantalize her skin. “I’d draw this moment out all night if I could.” A hard edge lined his voice. “But I can’t stop thinking about how good it feels to be inside you, and I know how wet you are, and I don’t want anything else right now.”

Each new word sent another pang of want through her. He pushed her backward until her calves collided with the bed. One more nudge, and she was sitting on the mattress looking up at him.

He rested a hand on the back of her neck and his thumb brushed her windpipe. “Don’t move.”

Her anticipation spiked again when he stood and stepped back. He stood just out of reach as he tossed his shirt and undershirt aside. When he paused, she stopped breathing for a moment. What’s he up to?

He bent to fumble with one of his bags and a moment later produced a condom.

Prepared. Again. Did that mean the evening with her was just another plan, and she’d only been the right person at the right time? She pushed the doubt aside and dove into the direct question instead. “So, Mister Impulse-is-horrible-and-scary. Do you have that because you were planning on getting lucky this trip?”

“I have it because it never hurts to be prepared.” Every inch of his body molded to her. “And possibly because hope compelled me to pick up an extra last night.”

The idea sent a new flush of heat through her and tapped a seductive rhythm in her veins.

Within seconds, he’d shed the rest of his clothes and wrapped himself in the rubber. She reached for him. He gave her a wicked smile, grabbed her wrists again, and pulled them above her head as he nudged her onto her back. He bent over her and crushed his lips to hers hard enough their teeth collided. She struggled under his grip, not to break free, but to get closer to his touch.

While his tongue danced with hers, hungry and demanding, his free hand dropped back to her waist. He broke away long enough to tear her panties away and discard them. The friction heightened her want.

He nudged her knee with his. “Scoot back.”

“Yes, sir.” She gave him a teasing smile and relocated to the center of the bed.

He pushed her thighs apart with his knee and moved between them. Lowering his head, he drew his tongue across her nipple and sucked it into his mouth. She gasped and arched her back when he nibbled the hard flesh. He never let up his attentions on the nub as his cock nudged her opening. He pushed inside her, driving in his thick length all at once. His movements were slow at first, drawing out almost to the tip before plunging inside her again. She wanted more. She wanted things fast and hard like the night before. Her hips bucked against him to speed things up.

He sat straight up, driving deeper into her. “If you keep that up, I won’t last.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Her question melted into another moan as he placed his hands on the back of her knees and pressed them toward her chest. The position put him deeper inside her than she’d ever been penetrated and slammed into a spot that made her groan louder with every thrust.

And then he picked up the pace. As he pounded, she felt climax claw its way through her again, and her hands dug into the blankets, looking for something to grab tight. A scream tore from her throat when she came, and she clenched tight around him, focused on every sensation at the same time.

His breathing grew more punctuated, and his thrusts reached a frantic pace. Never breaking the rhythm, he dropped her legs suddenly, rested his hands on either side of her head, and locked his gaze on hers. “You…feel…incredible,” he managed between short breaths. His grunts became staccato and frantic as he peaked. Even after his groans reached their apex, then faded, he continued to pound inside her. Her head floated back to reality, gaze locked on his, as his pace slowed to a stop.

He hovered a little longer, both of them searching for their breaths. She couldn’t look away. Her heart squeezed at the raw lust staring back. What was it about him that had her so captivated? The impulse to curl up in his arms and stay there for hours flooded her, gnawing at a longing she knew wasn’t appropriate. It wasn’t just the sex. The thought hit her hard, and she couldn’t shake it. There was a deeper connection she couldn’t place. Damn it. How was any guy ever going to stack up to this once they went their separate ways?