Chapter 32
What am I doing? This is Anderson, the guy who … oh, fuck it.
The truth is, I don’t really have much of an answer. I can hardly think with my blood thrumming and my body melting. My nerves are shredded from the conversation with his dad and the days I spent worrying about this charade. But what if it wasn’t a charade? What if I let myself accept the truth?
I have a thing for my former bully.
Former, being the operative word. Besides, he kisses like his life depends on it, and I know what else he can do. Every kiss leads to something more in the moment—a gentle caress down my side, the clutching of his collar. His fingers sifting through my hair. A moan vibrating my lips against his. The need to press myself to him. To feel him. It’s incredible—he’s incredible—but as we make out, I’m dying for more.
Anderson kisses down the side of my neck, his breath warming the shell of my ear. “This was not what I had in mind when I invited you in here.”
Oh, shit. Don’t make me ask it. I cleared my throat. “Do you want to stop?”
“Fuck no.”
“Thank god,” I gasp just before he picks me up and sets me onto the heavy wooden table. “Um, but won’t someone come in here?”
“No one comes down here anymore. Just me.”
“But they could?—”
Anderson presses a finger to my lips. “They won’t. But if it makes you feel better …” He stalks to the door we came in and locks it, before joining me again. “Better?”
“Yes.”
He smirks, and it sends that zap through me. “Glad to hear it.” Then he slowly reaches up my dress as he kisses me again. Between soft lip bites, he murmurs, “Tell me if I’m taking this too far.”
“Don’t stop.”
He kisses me harder as his fingers drag over my underwear. They slip to the side and scoot the thin fabric out of the way before his knuckles brush up against my center. “So wet for me already?”
“I like kissing you.”
“Me, too.” Then he drops to his knees.
“Where did you?—”
He yanks me to the edge of the table and dips beneath my hem, while spreading my thighs wide.
“Oh my god, Anderson!” I gasp before he starts. Then his tongue runs up my pussy and I’m trembling already. I’m too close, too on edge, too on an actual edge, and I’m worried I’m going to fall on his head. His tongue has me shaking, and I can’t hold back. “Gonna fall?—“
“I have you. Just let go. Let me have you.”
It feels like an impossible ask. To just let go means I’m not in control. The only other time I did that was also with Anderson, but that was a different circumstance, and I thought I’d never see him again. Now, though, things are different. I want this, and I want to keep seeing him. But that’s the real reason I want him; I see him. Who he really is. And I like him far more than I should.
I gulp and nod, not that he can see me. “Okay. You have me.”
He pulls me just a little more over the edge, then wrecks me with his tongue. It’s like he’s counting my pulse with it, he moves so damned fast. My breath flies out in a keening wail, something animal and brief, as my climax picks up. I grab the back of his head to keep him on me, right there, right where I want him. It hits with enough force that sends my spine arching back. But he has me—his arms shoot up to keep me from falling. To let me ride it out on his face.
When I come back to earth, he stands up, kissing me long and deep, and when I taste myself on his lips, I want him even more. He murmurs, “I’ve been dying to taste you since the last time I did.”
I whimper my thoughts in another kiss. I want this man, consequences be damned. “Anderson, fuck me.”
He spins me around and on my shaking legs, I worry I’ll fall, but he has me. When he bends me over the table, I’m losing my mind. I want this so bad. But then he stands me back up.
“Not like this.” He takes my hand and guides me to the end of one of the bookshelves, pressing my back to it. In a flash, he grabs my ass and lifts me up, and I let out a shocked whoop that makes him grin like a demon. Then he kisses me and grinds against me. His hard cock presses against my clit with every motion, and I’m on the verge again in a hurry. There’s going to be such a wet spot on his damn pants, and I don’t give a fuck. But this is not enough.
“I want you inside of me?—”
“I don’t have a condom. Thought this would suffice for now.”
“I’m negative for everything, and I haven’t been with anyone else since you, and I’m on birth control, so if you’re good without a condom, so am I.” I’d thought I’d seen lust on this man’s face before. Nope. I am wrong. This bit of encouragement has unleashed some hormone-fueled beast.
He orders, “When your feet hit the floor, take off your panties.” He sets me down gently while he unzips, so I scoot them off onto the floor. Then he picks me up again and I feel it—skin on skin. I have never moved this fast with a guy before. Condoms or no sex for the first few months. I’m always careful. Tonight, though, I don’t fucking care. This feels right.
When he slides in, he’s as careful as he can be. His muscles strain with every motion. The glide of him sends my eyes rolling back as he fills me up. Inch by inch, he’s taking too long, and it sets my body alight.
“More, Anderson. I need more.”
He thrusts up to the hilt, and I groan from the impact, while he lets out a primal growl that makes me want to hear it again. With his hands under my ass and my back on the bookshelves, he rolls himself up into me. I brace on his shoulders for balance, but I know he has me. I should have felt caged, trapped between him and the shelves. I didn’t. All I felt was safe and cherished and wanted.
Pleasure winds so tight in me that it is almost pain. I wrap my legs around his waist to bring him closer, and he kisses me reverently. Like he is in awe of me. I never want this to end. But then his cock swells in me, and I worry that it will.
Anderson picks me up off of him as he pulls out. I whine my discontent. How can this be over? I didn’t even feel him finish.
But then he turns me around to face the bookshelf. He leans in close, lifting the back of my dress. His hot breath sends a shiver from my ear down my body. “Brace yourself.”
I grab both sides of the bookshelf, and he slams himself into me from behind, hard enough to shake the books. His girth grazes against my G spot on every thrust, and I’m practically speaking gibberish between curses. But when he reaches around for my clit, I lose my mind. My pussy clenches tight to him, throbbing and aching. “Fuck, And—oh, god!”
“That’s it. Come on my cock,” he demands.
He covers my mouth with his free hand, and I scream into his palm as I come all over him. But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down. Every stroke is faster, hotter. More determined. Like he knows he’s hitting my spot, and he’ll never stop.
He drags another orgasm from me as he grunts in my ear, “That’s my good girl.”
My whole body arches back against him as he pounds into me and plays my body like an instrument. I’m lost to white hot flashes of ecstasy. He won’t let me stop coming. Not yet.
“I’m going to come in you. Fill you up. Is that what you want?”
I can’t speak. Only nod.
He growls in relief. “Fuck, yes.” Just as his cock thickens up, he slows down. “Just not yet. I like you squirming on me, baby.”
I let out a whine, and I’m not sure if that’s encouraging him to stop or to keep going. But with my core so wound tight, I can hardly breathe. Then he triggers another that makes me gasp for all the breath I’ve lost, and I’m more than squirming. I can’t hold still—every part of me shakes violently as I come harder than ever on him.
He covers my back with his body, leaning as he pumps into me and plays with my clit. He rasps, “Love to make you come. Fuck, that’s it, just like that, baby.” His growl shreds me to my core as he comes inside of me, kissing and biting my neck like a rabid beast.