Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(84)

I attempt to stifle another desperate sound coming from the back of my throat, but fail. “Yes,” I try to reply, but the word is all garbled.

I feel the rumble of his deep, amused chuckle against my core. The noise I make is something wilder than a whimper—this man knows exactly how to handle me.

He devours me. My legs wrap around his shoulders and eventually work their way up to the back of his head, tugging him closer. His strong arms wrap around my thighs, big hands splayed, holding me open so he can feast on me.

“Am I the first to do this to you?”

I nod, tugging at his hair. Mindless for this man. “Yes.”

“I’m going to be the only one to do this to you, Bailey. Mark my words.”

My head spins. He’s so fucking sure. I don’t know what to make of his confidence. How to cope with it. In my world, nothing lasts forever, and love isn’t even on the table.

Beau gives me so much. I worry I’ll never be able to repay him.

He slides a finger into me, working my body in time with his mouth. My back arches and my palms fly up to my face, gliding back over my hair.

“Should I add another finger, Bailey? Get you nice and ready to take my cock?”

“Yesss.” I moan the word right as I tug at my own hair.

He does exactly as he promised, slow and steady, sucking at my clit as his hand moves faster. Harder. My body shakes as he works me over—squeezing my ass, fingers curling into me, devilish tongue flicking.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I curse. All my hard-won attempts at being a “lady” fly out the window with this man’s head between my legs. “Beau, I’m going to—”

“Come for me, baby.” He pulls back, watching his fingers pump in and out of me. “Let me see it.”

His intimate gaze, his husky words, and his thumb reaching up to rub my clit cause me to shatter. He grips me like a vise, two fingers pushing at that magical spot deep inside me as I call his name. My body is suffused with heat. The backs of my calves cramp. Every muscle braces, clenching on him, before releasing every ounce of pressure. Rocking me to my core.

And Beau never stops. Watching. Touching. Admiring his handiwork.

“Yeah, I’ll never tire of this view,” he says gruffly, as my limbs go soft.

All I can do is concentrate on breathing, getting my vision back into focus. His fingers leave my body, accompanied by a wet sound. My eyes shut, a trickle of embarrassment finding its way in.

“What was that, Bailey?” he asks, and I feel the bed sink under the weight of him. His knees brace on either side of my naked body.

My eyes flip open to meet his. “Nothing.”

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you look, coming with my name on your lips?”

“No,” I reply honestly, and he just smiles.

“What about how good you taste? Do you know how fucking good you taste?”

I shake my head, my body thrumming just from the rumble of his deep voice in the dim room.

He smirks, full of promise and knowing, and the fingers that were just inside me trace my lips. “Suck, Bailey.”

“Your cock?” My eyes widen with excitement.

“We can save that for another day. I’ll be happy to let you practice. But for now … ” His two fingers tap against my lips and my mouth pops open.

He slides his fingers onto my tongue, and my lips close around them. My eyes lock with his as the taste of what he did to me fills my mouth. “Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, pulling them back out with a pop. “And if I ever see you looking embarrassed about yourself again, I’ll leave another mark on your neck to wear around town.”

Then he kisses me. Hard. And I taste myself there too. I taste him, that signature scent.

I taste us.

In the blink of an eye, he flips us and pulls me up the bed with him so I’m straddling him. He leans against the headboard, looking like some sort of king. Tousled and golden and impossibly broad.

“Undress me, Bailey.” He doesn’t blanch or blink away when he tells me what to do. His eyes burn hotter, and I want nothing more than to burn with him too. To rise to his challenge and not crumple under the weight of my inexperience.

So with a soft nod, I reach down and grasp his shirt, tugging slowly at first, then more frantically. He leans forward and lifts his arms to help me. I toss it away, and it’s just my hands on his skin. Roaming. Memorizing him in a way I haven’t been able to until now.

Warm, smooth skin beneath my palms. Thick bulges over his pectoral muscles. Tight nipples. I pinch one and peek up at him. His eyes blaze and he gives me a reassuring nod.

So I pinch again. This time both, noting the sharp intake of breath that follows. My hips grind down in response and his buck up to meet me.

God. I can’t believe I’m really here, doing this with him.

To cover for the way my hands shake, I keep moving them, roaming down his toned abdomen. A thin scar mars one of his perfect abs.

I trail a finger over its length and whisper, “What’s this from?”

“Got shivved.”

My gaze snaps up. “What?”

“Let my guard down that day, getting one of my first targets into custody. Learned a valuable lesson. Never letting that happen again.”

I smile softly, feeling the raised skin again. “Don’t think you’re much at risk of getting shivved in Chestnut Springs.”