Home > Popular Books > Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(51)

Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(51)

Author:Elsie Silver

Her hips push back, and the tip of my finger slides in.

“Oh god.” She rolls her forehead over my chest, and I’m pretty sure I stop breathing as she rocks herself against my finger.

“Bailey.” I groan her name and pull out to spread her wetness over her clit. Her legs tremble on either side of my waist as I do. “Fuck.”

Her lips land back on my chest, and one hand grips my shoulder while the other braces above my head on the bed frame.

I press in again, further this time, and feel her clamp down around my finger. “You’re fucking soaked.”

She nods once more.

With one finger inside her, the others explore between her legs. Lips, clit, sliding up and down her slit. “If it’s too much, you’ll tell me?”

“Yes, yes.” She chants the words, hot shaky breaths against my skin. “Do it again.”

“Do what?” I murmur against her ear as she writhes above me.

“Finger fuck me.” Her words are languid, not shy at all.

“Like this?” I slide in and out, setting an even and torturous tempo.

She lifts her head to peer over her shoulder. No doubt trying to see the way her body fits against mine, the way I have angled my arm around behind her. “Yeah, like that.”

My muscles burn, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s nothing compared to the way my dick is throbbing from feeling Bailey all tight and wet, riding my fingers.

“What about this?” I slow my motions and add a second finger to join the first, toying with her entrance before easing into her slick heat. A gentle twist of my hand has her crying out, and her head drops back down to my chest.

“You like that, Bailey? Are two fingers better than one?” I push in further, spurred on by the needy mewling noises she’s making.

A soft, “Yes,” spills from her damp lips before she drags them over my collarbones, up the side of my neck—while still avoiding my face.

“In and out only? Or with a twist? I want to know.” My utmost desire is to know absolutely everything that drives her crazy. We can learn it together.

“Twist.” She’s gone monosyllabic, and I take a perverse sort of pleasure in stealing her pleasure and her words.

I work both fingers in and out, slowly twisting, her wetness surging around me.

Her body trembles.

Her hips rotate.

Her body pulses.

Our breaths come out sharp and choppy.

“Look at me, Bailey. You gonna come for me, Bailey? Just like I told you to?”

“Yesss,” she hisses, now bucking against me as she draws back just enough to meet my eyes.

I shove in hard a few times, getting off on the throaty noises she makes. Then I pull out, sliding back and forth over her clit. It only takes a few times until she shatters.

“Fuck! Beau!” She yanks my hair, and her teeth clamp down on my neck. The soaked insides of her thighs spread as she tumbles down on top of me, chest to chest. Her knees give out and she loses purchase on my sheets, slim legs slipping as they clamp my sides.

Her pussy pulses and slides over the edge of my cock. Down the vein, right to the base, where she stalls, trying to catch her breath with my full, round head pressed to her navel.

The worst fucking tease.

It’s a temptation so fucking strong I gasp for air and extricate myself from her soft, needy body.

Away from the bed at last, I stand and run my hands through my hair, needing to step away from her so I don’t go any further than I just did.

Way too fucking far.

I promised her I wouldn’t fuck her. I promised to help make things better for her. And I meant it.

She’s young and sweet, and has her entire life ahead of her. I’m the last thing she needs complicating her situation.

This arrangement? It’s a glorified bet. And she deserves better.

I should have stopped.

18

Bailey

Bailey: Take tonight off. Go to bed early. I’m fine.

Beau: No, thanks.

Bailey: Seriously, you can’t stay up late with me and then wake up an hour later doing your thing.

Beau: My thing?

Bailey: 2:11

Beau: Bailey, you do your thing, and I’ll do mine. And mine includes sitting at your bar, so you aren’t alone.

The knife slices through the lime, and a fresh wave of pain hums through my veins as the citrus juice hits my paper cut. But I don’t even flinch.

I can feel Beau’s eyes on me from where he sits at the end of the bar, and I’m sure if I show an iota of pain, he’ll call 911 to have me airlifted to the nearest hospital. We may be on tense terms right now, but he’s still here, guarding me like a German shepherd, ready to leap to my defense.

 51/122   Home Previous 49 50 51 52 53 54 Next End