Chapter Five #2
And it settled her. He was looking right at her and was hard as a rock. She was okay.
The fabric of her cropped shirt was soft in her hands as she peeled it over her head.
Her hair fell in a mess around her face, and she shook it out.
He helped. He gripped the sides of her hair and pulled her closer to him.
She thought he would kiss her, but instead, he lowered his lips to her neck, where he pressed a kiss against her tripping pulse.
Kit fumbled the zipper of her jeans, and he lifted his lips to her ear and murmured, “Let me.”
Relieved, she shook out her shaking hands and clenched her fists against his strong chest as he leaned down just enough to reach the fly of her jeans. He popped the button and unzipped her slowly, teasing her lips with his. He didn’t kiss her though.
Oh, she got this game. He wouldn’t kiss her again. She was just a distraction from his loneliness. Okay. Maybe she needed that too.
She leaned in by centimeters and before he could retreat, she turned in his arms and gave Bridger her back. His hands went up from behind her, up her ribcage to her tits, still encased in her black bra.
He massaged her there as she rolled her ass against his erection.
With his fingertips, he moved her hair off her neck and to her back, then laid biting kisses down her throat.
She rolled her head back and closed her eyes, lost in the dance.
He was leading her, and she was happy to follow.
Her worries for tomorrow disappeared. Her dread over Seth vanished.
Her failure in a pairing that was never meant to be evaporated.
Here, in this quiet room, it was just them.
Two broken people who could make the ghosts go away for a little while.
Bridger gripped her throat gently from behind her and slid his other hand down her stomach to her unbuttoned jeans. Instead of pushing them down though, he slid his hand right under her panties, and his fingers grazed her wet sex.
A soft growl escaped him as he slid his fingertips back and forth through the wetness he’d conjured there. Kit gasped as he slid his finger inside of her. Legs weak, she reached back and gripped the back of his neck as he laid kisses down the side of her throat again.
Bridger walked her forward and settled her into the open bathroom doorway, facing the mirror. They were backlit, and the lights were still off in here. She could see the glow of the animal eyes, reflecting oddly from his face. Gold, gold, gold, the color of a saturated sunset.
His hand moved under the fabric of her jeans as he slid his finger in and out of her.
She gripped the edges of the doorframe and with her breath heavy in her chest, she watched him behind her, working her body.
He was all shadows and glowing eyes, his hand back at her throat, the other moving, moving, moving, in and out, in and out. Her legs were shaking.
“Bridger,” she whispered helplessly, gripping harder to the doorframe.
A sharp-toothed smile flashed in the mirror before he lowered his lips to her neck again and grazed a gentle bite there. She could feel his sharp canines, but he wasn’t breaking her skin.
Chills rippled through her entire body as the pressure built inside of her with every stroke of his finger. And then he pulled all the way out of her, rubbed her clit, and then put two fingers in.
A moan escaped her as her legs buckled, but he held her up.
“I want to feel it,” he rumbled. “I want you gripping my fingers.”
And something about his words pushed her over the edge. “Yes sir.”
“Mmmm, good,” he growled out against her ear, lifting those glowing gold eyes back to hers in the mirror.
She was moving her hips now, harder. She cried out and pressed her hand over his, doubled over as she groaned again.
He rammed his fingers deeper into her, deeper, harder, and she was gone. “Fuck!” she yelled, her orgasm blasting through her. She did grip his fingers over and over, and hard. He moved inside of her, dragging it out, and before she was even finished with the aftershocks, he gritted out, “My turn.”
He pushed her jeans roughly down her thighs and guided her onto the bathroom counter. She locked her arms on the counter, and he ripped her bra off her…just…ripped it like it was nothing. The sound of his zipper dragged chills of anticipation up her spine.
“Please,” she said mindlessly.
“Oh, I’m going to give it to you. Spread your legs. Wider.”
She did, lifting up on her tiptoes, arching her back, angling her ass at him. He intertwined their fingers on the countertop as he gripped himself and guided his dick into her slick entrance.
The stretch felt so good.
He wasn’t in a gentle mood anymore. He was ravenous, she could tell. He pushed deeply into her and pulled out, slammed into her again. He gripped her hips as she locked both arms against the counter.
“Look at yourself,” he growled.
Kit opened her eyes thinking he was telling her to look at what a slut she was being, but he wore this wicked smile.
“Look how fucking beautiful you are when you’re taking a dick.” He leaned closer to her ear. “Taking it like a good girl.”
She’d never been able to finish like this, but it felt different with Bridger. It felt good down there. It was the perfect pressure and friction, and he was driving them both toward something.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, his entire body flexing with each time he pumped into her. His teeth were gritted and the angles of his face so sharp. He looked dominant, dangerous, feral…perfect. He was the hottest man she’d ever been with.
He slammed into her harder, and she began crying out with each thrust. His throat was beautifully flexed as he angled his head back and closed his eyes, fucking her senseless. When he lowered his gaze to her again, she could tell he was close.
Desperation took her and she pressed her fingers to her sex.
She could feel him pumping in and out of her.
Could feel his slick cock and this was the sexiest thing she’d ever been a part of.
He yelled out, and she knew it was coming.
Something about it got her off, and her own orgasm shattered through her body as his dick pulsed warm cum into her.
“Fuck, it feels good, you gripping me like that,” Bridger gritted out. “Fuck it feels good.”
And for her it did too. Her orgasm pounded on and on until she was sagging heavily against the counter, completely sated. He gathered her hair at the nape of her neck, and leaned down, pressed his lips to the top of her spine there, and then froze.
He stayed right there, weight on her, breathing steadily.
“You okay?” she asked, feeling the shift in the room.
Bridger straightened up and slid out of her, allowing his cum to stream down her inner thighs.
He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He wasn’t meeting her eyes in the mirror any longer.
He paced across the bathroom and back, then to the bathroom door. He ran his hand down his short scruff on his jaw and cleared his throat. “I’ll get the paperwork printed out and bring it to you in the morning.”
Shock wrecked her as she realized what he was doing.
Bridger zipped up his jeans as he padded into the main room. He grabbed his shirt and hat, and didn’t even put them on before he was out the door.
He left her there bent over the bathroom counter in absolute shock.
It had been the best sex of her life…until it wasn’t.
Until this awful sinking, dirty feeling filled her.
Why had she lost her mind with a dead-end man? He was protective of his loneliness.
Kit pushed up and pressed the back of her hand against her lips. The lips he hadn’t kissed because she was just another fuck to take his mind off his real mate for a little while.
It had been the best with Bridger.
It had also been the worst.