Skin Tight (Skin Deep #4) - Page 33/43

I collapsed back onto the carpet, breasts heaving with every ragged breath I sucked in, attempting to regulate my body once more, but it was hard to do with the aftershocks coursing through me, almost like I was short circuiting.

I forced my eyes open, glancing down the length of my body to see Ian’s face, eyes dark and heavy-lidded with desire, staring back at me, his mouth still hovering over my folds. I could see my wetness glistening on his face, and just the sight of it made my stomach drop as want curled through me once more.

He licked his lips, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a wicked smile. “Mmm…sweet and creamy…you do taste good everywhere.”

I gasped. “Ian,” I moaned, heat suffusing my skin. It didn’t matter that I’d just come hard all over his face, he just had to look at her and she was ready.

“Ready to go to bed?” he asked me, his voice deep and low.

I nodded vigorously and his smile grew. He leaned down and lifted me in his arms, shifting until I was straddling his lap where he knelt. He lightly tapped my ass as he kissed my lips softly, pulling away before I could take it deeper.

“Shut the lights off, baby, while I put away this stuff,” he said, gesturing to my movie snacks.

“Yeah, you definitely want to put that whipped cream back in the fridge. We don’t want that going bad…” I winked and stood, watching as he gathered everything up and turned for the kitchen.

I shut the lights off, with the exception of the kitchen and hall so Ian would have some light, and practically ran for the bedroom, sprawling out in the center of the bed on top of the covers, but then quickly jumping up and dashing to the bathroom to clean the residual stickiness of the whipped cream from my body, before diving back onto the bed.

Ian followed soon after. I watched his shadow moving into the room in the darkness, heard the rustle of him shedding his clothes, the softness of his footsteps as he stalked the bed. A shiver of anticipation worked its way up my spine.

I felt his weight depress the bed beside me and then he was over me, sliding his body against mine until we were chest to chest, his hips settling snugly into the cradle of my outspread thighs. I groaned as he dragged the thick, heated length of his cock against my slit.

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispered in the darkness.

“Always,” I moaned, arching into his thrust as the head of him stroked directly over my clit.

“I’m gonna fuck you, baby, and while I’m doing it, you’re gonna play with yourself,” he rasped, his voice soft, but no less demanding.

A small mew of assent was about all the response I could drum up at the moment as he moved his hands behind my knees and pressed upwards, drawing my legs up and out as he slid inside my channel.

He gave a couple shallow thrusts before he filled me completely, his hands still holding my legs wide, then growled, “Now, Leah. Reach down here and rub that pretty little clit for me.”

I complied, sliding my fingers down my stomach and over my mound, sighing in pleasure as I brushed over my clit. I circled the nubbin gently, then moved my hand lower, feeling the heat and wetness where our bodies were joined, felt the silky, hot length of Ian’s cock sliding between my fingers as he filled me over and over again.

He groaned at the feel of my fingers touching the base of him while he was buried inside my sheath, the walls of my sex clasping him tightly, drawing him further inside me, but I didn’t linger. His thrusts became heavier, harder, eliciting the thick, meaty sound of skin slapping skin as he pounded into me.

I moved my free hand up to pluck at my nipples while my other fingers went to work on my clit, rubbing and circling feverishly, adding to the sensations already building beautifully inside me. I was writhing in heat, hovering on the precipice of blinding bliss. Ian was grunting with every thrust, moving faster as he approached his own release, until, on a guttural cry he urged, “Come! Now!”

I did. I hurtled over the edge, a breathless cry breaking from my lips as the heat of his seed filled me. He held tight, his cock pulsing inside me as my sex milked him, wringing every last drop of his release from him.

We stayed locked together until our breathing even out, and only then did he slowly slip out of me, moving to collapse at my side, pulling me into his arms and kissing me sweetly.

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips. “I think you’re gonna be the death of me, but damn, I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you, too,” I whispered back, settling against him when our lips parted, my head pillowed on his shoulder, my thigh draped over his.

I let sleep take me under with a smile on my face and Ian softly snoring in my ear.

I don’t know how long I’d been asleep when I woke up on a low moan, the finger between my thighs manipulating my clit in a halting, yet effective rhythm. The finger pressed harder, circling and circling, pushing me closer and closer to coming. Without warning, it slid inside to press against the wall of my pelvis almost painfully.

A small yelp broke from my lips and I moved restlessly, trying to alleviate the discomfort. “Ian…”

The finger pressed back inside me, twisting and scraping unnaturally, and it hurt. I cried out and squeezed my thighs together tightly, reaching down to shove away Ian’s arm.

Ian shifted beside me and let out a moan, but I couldn’t feel him up against me, other than the feel of his hand between my thighs, but since I pushed it away, that was even gone. I gasped as he moaned again, longer and louder this time.

I sat up and squinted into the darkness, a feeling that something just wasn’t right prickling up my spine.

“Ian?” I said tentatively.

“God, Leah…” Ian gasped, and the bed shifted once more. Then, “Leah?”

I reached over and clicked on the bedside lamp, dread curling sickeningly in my stomach as I stared at the tableau stretched out before me…a real life nightmare. Victoria was crouched over Ian, her lips stretched into a maniacal grin, even as they were wrapped around Ian’s dick, feverishly working him. I watched, detached, as she slid her hand back from where it had been lying near my thigh, feeling even sicker as she brought her fingers to her nose and sniffed, her eyes glistening with unholy glee.

I watched Ian stiffen, blinking in the light now flooding the room, his face twisting into an expression like nothing I’d ever seen as the situation hit him, but before he could do anything, I felt myself move.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

A scream of rage poured from me as I lunged at Victoria, my hand fisting in her hair and ripping her off of Ian as I tackled her, sending both of us flying off of the bed to land in a heap on the floor.

Victoria shrieked and scrambled to get away from me, her hand reaching up to scratch at my face, but I slapped it away and jerked her head back viciously once more with the hand that was still gripping her hair.

My pulse was pounding, the sound of it echoing in my ears, almost drowning out everything else as my arm drew back. It was almost as if I was watching myself, the red haze that had settled over my vision dissipating, dissolving to black as I lost control and let my fist fly…again, and again, and again.

I was vaguely aware of Ian speaking, of Victoria screaming, and of someone growling and shrieking wildly. What I wasn’t aware of was the fact that it was me growling and shrieking…or that I was doing it while I pummeled Victoria until she was a bloody mess mewling on the carpet of my bedroom floor.