Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
boston
“This isn’t going to be anything more than this.”
She blinks up at me, blue eyes, soft edges, and genuine confusion written all over that face.
She looks caught between two worlds: the one where she wants to be fucked, and the one where she doesn’t want to have this conversation.
It doesn’t matter which one she chooses, we aren’t going any further until we set clear lines in the sand.
I’m emotionally fucked and loathe the idea of commitment, but I’m not a piece of shit.
She wets her lip with her tongue and fuck, would it be ridiculous to shut my eyes for this conversation so that I can focus?
“More than what? Sleeping together? Yeah, that’s fine with me, Boston.”
“Ariana,” I say, holding her by the shoulders. “You are Forker’s sister. You are more important than some girl from the bar, or someone I hook up with on a casual basis. I need to know we’re on the same page before we do this.”
“Do you want me to beg?” she asks, angling her head.
Oh my god.
I stare at her, dumbfounded, but my cock heard that and he likes the sound of that request.
She moves to lower herself to her knees.
Yeah, no. That’s not happening again. Not tonight. I jump forward to keep her upright before she does something that makes it impossible for me to think, just like she did in that bathroom.
“Stop talking like that,” I plead, my grip tightening on her arm. “We need to make this call outside of this fog of fucking lust, Ari.”
“I want you,” she says sweetly, stepping forward.
She walks into my space, sliding her hands up my chest until her arms are wound around my neck.
“I am not asking for a house and marriage, Boston. I want to know what it feels like to be with you. I’ve been thinking about it on a loop for two years. ”
I bite back a groan, dropping my hands back to her waist. She’s tempting.
So fucking tempting. But I can’t hurt her.
I obviously shouldn’t be doing this to Forker, either—the guy who would jump into any fight for me without asking, and who would drop everything to help me if I needed him. No questions.
I shouldn’t be in this position right now. This is all kinds of wrong.
But I want her, and I want her bad.
“Tell me you get it,” I mutter, ignoring the press of her chest against mine.
“I won’t ask for anything more from you,” she promises. That blonde hair falls over her shoulder like it has a mind of its own. “Just sex, Boston. I promise.”
I nod, wetting my bottom lip with my tongue and step even closer—digging my fingers into the slope of her waist.
And I know it’s a bad idea, even when I lean down and glide my mouth against hers.
I know it’s a bad idea even as my dick grows hard in my briefs.
I know it makes me an awful person, but I also know that I need Ariana Forkerro in a way that I have never needed anything or anyone before her—I need her like I need oxygen, like I need sleep, like I need blood to pump through my veins.
I’ve started to need her to fucking function.
Even if it’s just once. I have to know. I have to know.
She slides her hands into my hair and I tug her body to mine, the taste of her mouth welcoming me back to my recklessness.
Heaven and hell, this mouth. Sweet, warm, and beautiful, but a direct threat to everything I love in my life.
The risk feels worth it when that little moan slips from her body into mine.
That sound will play on a loop in my head for the next little while.
I pull away just enough, my mouth still brushing hers. “You left that bathroom without letting me return the favour. That’s not how shit operates with me.”
Her eyes flash. “Can I cash in my IOU now?”
I nod, kissing her again. “Yeah, sweetheart. You better.”
I have felt horrible since then, wondering how I let my head get so fucking scattered that I didn’t make this girl come in one way or another after the most groundbreaking blowjob ever given.
It’s time to rectify that so I can sleep soundly tonight.
We need to be on an equal playing field. That will bring me some peace.
I guide her backward until her back hits the door of her hotel room.
I give her one last parting kiss, and then sink to my knees, tugging her dress upward in one rough movement. She reaches for me instantly, her fingers sliding through my hair, gentle and soft. I wind my hands in the blue lace of her underwear and tear them down her legs.
Fuck. My. Life.
She’s gorgeous everywhere.
I practically growl, leaning forward to slide my tongue between her thighs. The hiss that leaves her makes my dick harden to the point of near pain. I use one hand to hold her body against the door and the other to separate her, finding the spot she needs me most and sucking it into my mouth.
“Oh my god,” she whispers breathlessly, her fingers tightening against my scalp.
She’s going to come at least twice tonight. Since I owe her one, interest has accrued.
I grumble against her, peering up at her pleasure-ridden face as she starts to ride my face against the wall. Both of her hands are gripping my head as she rotates her hips, her eyes fallen shut.
I slide my free hand to her entrance, letting out a deep, needy moan at what I find.
“I’m so wet,” she says breathlessly. “I’m sorry.”
I pull my mouth away, glancing up at her. She meets my eyes with heavy lids as I let my fingers take over. She immediately arches against me. “You’re apologizing for making my dick hard now? What a change of pace.”
And what a clear sign that she’s been sleeping with losers.
She breathes a laugh, her eyes dark and full of want. I keep my gaze locked on her as I lift my thumb and let it replace my mouth, craving the way it makes her knees shake the second that I do.
“If you aren’t soaked before I touch you, I’m doing something wrong,” I tell her, moving in slow, torturous circles. Let this be a lesson for her. Men should want her to want this as bad as they do. “This is exactly what I want to feel when I’m with you. Don’t apologize.”
Before she can answer, I lower my mouth back to her body.
I work until she’s sagging against me, grinding against my face, holding onto my hair like she’ll fall if she doesn’t.
She tastes as good as she looks, and when she comes, she cries out in a way that makes it almost impossible not to follow right behind her.
It’s quiet, and desperate, and full of expletives. A devil’s mouth on an angel’s body.
I keep working until she’s begging me to stop, and only then do I slowly stand, kissing my way up her body as I do, taking her dress with me.
I trail my mouth up her toned stomach, between her breasts, and up her neck.
When I get to her jaw, I pull that dress over her head and toss it to the floor.
Planting my hands on her hips, I force her tired body back against the wall when she tries to move forward.
She angles her head to peer up at me, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm, trapped between me and the door.
“Can I taste?” she whispers.
Can I drop dead?
That is single-handedly the hottest question I have ever been asked.
I might be obsessed with this woman. I might not recover from what’s about to happen. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the idea that she exists in the same world that I do. That I’ve been allowed to kiss her. To touch her.
I lean forward to glide my lips against hers. She deepens the kiss instantly, moaning at the taste of herself on my tongue.
I am so fucking hard. So hard and so desperate to be buried inside her.
I try not to think of who she is. Of who this will hurt.
Of how fucking selfish I’m being. I try to think of only her.
What she wants. What she needs. For some reason, she chose me in that crazy head of hers, and I need to see this through.
I’ve gone too far already.
“Are you finally going to fuck me?” she asks breathlessly, pulling away to rest her head on the door.
I bite back a smile. “I don’t know, maybe you should finally try asking me nicely.”
Her tongue wets her swollen bottom lip. She reaches down to slide her open palm over my chest. Her expression is pure, shameless seduction. “Boston Black, will you please fuck me now?”
I smile, my dick moving to answer her before I can. “Well, since you asked so politely.”
I take her hand, guiding her to the bed.
She crawls on top of it, already naked and ready for me.
I hike my shirt off my body and fish my wallet out of my pocket for a condom before I get rid of my pants and briefs, too.
Not once, not for even half a second, do I let my eyes leave her.
I’m committing this to memory. Every second.
Every blink. It’s ending in the morning, and I don’t want to forget a single thing.
Her eyes zero in on my cock as I climb onto the bed.
She blinks up at me. “How do you want me? From behind? You seem like a doggy guy.”
I shake my head with a scoff, trapping her between my hands. “You’re insane if you think the first time I fuck you, it won’t be while looking at you.”
Hate that I just insinuated this would happen again.
Her eyes light up. “I knew you thought I was pretty!”
“Pretty is a fucking understatement, sweetheart,” I grumble. Exquisite. Perfect. Intoxicating. Mesmerizing. All things greater and more damning than ‘pretty’. “Go on and show me my reward for my hard work.”
Her face transforms into something wicked. She slowly spreads her legs and I lean back on my knees, letting her show me and my dick exactly what we have to look forward to in the next few minutes. She’s soaked. Ready for me. Perfect. I pump myself in my hand as she spreads herself with her fingers.
A low groan leaves my throat. “Keep going.”
Her fingers explore the most sensitive parts of her, teaching me the best ways to touch her. She shows me what she likes without a single word, and despite the fact that it’ll end in this hotel room, I memorize it.