Dirty - Page 67/99

“Lydia.” He pressed kisses across my cheek, then down along my jawline. Teeth grazed across the sensitive skin of my neck.

Goddamn vampire.

Meanwhile, his hands had apparently tired of feeling up my ass. One dug into my hair, while the other tugged my underwear aside. Fingers slipped in between the lips of my pussy, trailing lightly back and forth in the damp, teasing me. Everything low in me tensed, a vibrant sensation racing down my spine. I didn’t know whether to move or stay still. The pad of his thumb decided it for me, drawing circles around my clit. It dipped down into the moisture lower then returned with a vengeance.

“Look at me,” he muttered.

The thumb brushed over my sweet spot, making me shiver. Crap, that was good. If he’d just keep going a little longer, pressing a little harder …

“Open your eyes, babe.”

The fist in my hair tightened sharply, stinging my scalp. It was completely unexpected. My whole focus had been on my pussy, where it belonged. My eyelids flew up, mouth open. “V-Vaughan.”

“That’s it.” The lines of his face stood out starkly, his eyes huge and hypnotic. He nipped at my bottom lip, then kissed it better. “Don’t leave me now.”

“No.” I shook my head emphatically. Our time wasn’t up. Not yet.

“Need you here,” he said, still manipulating my clit with expertise. His clever thumb never stopped, touch varying from light to hard, teasing to almost rough. How he knew where the all-important line between pleasure and pain lay, I had no idea. I guess Fender girl had taught him. If the woman ever crossed my path, I’d kiss her. My hair stood on end, sweat was beading on my back. He could have been writing the American Constitution down there. I didn’t care. So long as he didn’t stop.

“Need you right here,” he said, staring deep into my eyes.

I nodded, beyond words.

Then he moved his thumb away. It was the saddest thing ever. The back of his hand brushed against me, doing something. Without his interference, my underwear slid back over, a line of elastic dissecting my swollen labia. Not cool.

Before I could fix it, his fingers returned, pulling it back out of the way. The smooth broad head of his cock dragged across my clit, between the wet lips of my sex. And yes, hells yes. The moment I could, I slowly pushed down, taking him inside. My eyes rolled back into my head it was so good. Delicious, glorious, and all these things and more. I’d never felt anything like it. His hard cock sliding into me was pure bliss and I never wanted it to end.

I whimpered and moaned like a wanton hussy.

He swore up a storm.

If any neighbors, astronauts, or heavenly deities were out there watching, they had to be jealous as hell.

His free arm slid around my waist, holding me to him in an almost brutal embrace. Like I had any intention of trying to get away. The feel of him stretching me, filling me up inside, was just too fine. Every vein in his dick seemed tantalizingly magnified. My back arched, pelvis trying to rock but not getting far. Interior muscles clutched at him in pain and pleasure. I ached inside and only he could make it better. In frustration, I twisted against his hold, writhing on him.

It was sweet torture.

“I need to move,” I pled, pressing my mouth to his face, kissing every inch of skin I could reach. Stubble scratched my skin, but no matter. “Vaughan?”

The controlling bastard tugged on my hair, turning his face to claim my mouth again. I kissed him as savagely as I could muster. Tongue stroking over his teeth, then tangling with his. Teeth grazing his firm bottom lip. Liquid copper hit my taste buds. I must have reopened his busted lip. Oh well.

“You going to fuck me, dirty girl?” he asked, voice guttural.

“Yes,” I hissed back at him. Partially plotting his death, but mostly just orgasms.

“How hard?”

“Hard. I promise, so hard. Let me go, Vaughan.”

“Say please.”

Bastard. “Please.”

“Do it.”

His arm relented, setting me free. And I grabbed hold of his shoulders, using them for leverage as I rose and fell on his cock. I might not make it into the Kentucky Derby, but I did ride Vaughan into the ground.

Literally.

Grass and dirt were pulverized beneath my knees as I pounded myself down on him. I clasped at him with my insides. His moans were music to my ears. Skin slapped against skin, sweat poured out of both of us. Nothing mattered. Only feeling him inside of me and coming. Hands gripped my breasts, squeezing and molding them over the fabric of my dress and bra. It wasn’t enough. I took control and pushed him back, angling my body forward. All the better to grind my clit against his pubic bone.