Kristen Ashley - Fire Inside

God.

Hot.

“Climb up, Lanie.”

My eyes went to his. I wet my lip with my tongue, his face got hungry, and I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Then the other one. Then a leg around his hip. I used his shoulders for leverage, did a knee hop to get the other one up and around. He bent into me to catch me at my ass at the same time he dropped me to my back in the bed and then he was inside me.

Yes.

Yes.

Injected, the drug that was Hop coursed through my veins. I had it back in a way I couldn’t believe I’d ever managed to live without it.

“Fuck me, your pussy,” he groaned into my neck, his hips moving, slow, steady, sweet. His head came up and his eyes captured mine. “So tight, baby. Wet, sleek glove. Nothin’ like you, lady. Nothin’ like that beauty.”

I lifted my head, pulling him to me with one arm, pressing my chest to his as my other hand slid over the skin of his back and I urged, “Faster, honey.”

“Takin’ my time, Lanie.”

“Faster, baby.” This time it was a plea.

“You take me as I give it and I’m takin’ my time.”

I moaned my disappointment against his mouth.

Hop kissed me.

That was better.

He took his time but he did it while kissing me.

Then he went faster.

That was also better.

Then harder.

That was even better.

Then his hand slid over my belly, down and his thumb found me.

That was the best and I knew it because I came. Hard. The explosion excruciating in its beautiful intensity.

“Look at me, Lanie.”

With effort, as what he gave me swept through me, I righted my head and slowly opened my eyes.

He stared into mine as he moved inside me.

“Most beautiful eyes I’ve ever fuckin’ seen,” he part muttered, part growled, going faster, deeper, his thumb pressing in and swirling, and my hips jerked.

“Hop,” I breathed, not quite done coming when the impossible happened and it started building again.

“Missed your eyes, baby,” he whispered, his hips powering fast, his thumb pressing deep.

“Hop,” I panted, my limbs around him tensing.

“Missed you, lady.”

Oh God.

I pressed my mouth to his. He drove hard with his hips and pressed his thumb tight then circled.

The best.

I just had the best and, God, God, he made it better.

“Missed you too, honey.”

That was me, sharing what I shouldn’t, doing what I shouldn’t, holding tight, lifting my hips to get as much of him as I could, seeking his thumb, pressing against his body, my lips moving against his.

“I know you did, baby,” he groaned before his tongue slid into my mouth, his thumb executing a maneuver that should be patented. My second orgasm seared through me so deep, it had to have left an internal scar and I whimpered down his throat.

He planted himself to the root and his grunt turned into a groan that drove down mine.

We kissed through our orgasms and heavy breathing, miraculous and beautiful, and only when it slid away did his mouth and his ’tache glide down my cheek to my neck where he gave me the sweet crash after the mind-blowing high.

I held on, felt it, memorized it, every inch, his cock buried deep, his weight on me, the smell of him, his warmth, his mouth, the tickle of his whiskers, his everything.

Before I could accomplish this feat, he spoke.

“You’re sleepin’ here.”

I closed my eyes and my limbs convulsed before they loosened so I could prepare to push him away.

His hips pressed into mine. That felt really good, which was really bad, and I was dealing with that when his head came up.

“You’re sleepin’ here. When I let you sleep, you’re doin’ it not in your slut clothes but in my tee and tomorrow, when we wake up, we’re talkin’.”

“Hop—”

“Shut it.”

I shut it but my confused, scared, post-orgasmic haze lifted so I shut it on a glare.

Before I could take him to task for telling me to shut it, he began talking again.

“Tonight, you got drunk and you nearly got yourself raped. Tomorrow, we talk about what’s in your head, what’s in our future, and how we’re gonna play it. You are not closin’ down on me. You are not shuttin’ me out. I tried to give you that, you nearly got raped. I’m done givin’ you that.”

“We don’t have a future,” I informed him.

“We have a future,” Hop informed me.

“We don’t.”

“Lady, we do.”

My eyes narrowed and I snapped loudly, “Don’t!”

He grinned and pointed out, “Seated deep, babe. I get rid of this condom, gonna eat you until you come ’cause I miss you on my tongue. Then I’m gonna fuck you again and maybe let you go down on me before I fuck you again. You wanna keep arguing, we’ll do it tomorrow when… we…” his grin didn’t leave as his face dipped closer, “talk. Now, I gotta go get rid of this condom. You gonna do somethin’ stupid so I have to cuff you to the bed?”

His last words made me blink in surprise, and such was my surprise that I forgot how much his first words turned me on and how his words before that ticked me off.

Therefore, it was with curiosity as well as stupidity that I asked, “You have handcuffs?”

Hop moved, swiftly and unexpectedly. He pulled out. I gasped. He kissed my throat then my body was hauled around so I was righted in the bed. Before I knew it, one arm was up and one bracelet from a set of handcuffs was on my wrist, the other around a slat in his headboard.

My head tilted way back. I stared at my wrist cuffed to the bed.

“Yeah, Lanie, I got handcuffs.” Hop stated the obvious.

My eyes went to him.

He grinned.

I growled.

Yes, actually growled.

He smiled.

“Uncuff me!” I cried.

“Maybe, when I’m back from the can.”

“Hop, do not move before you uncuff me,” I demanded.

He bent and kissed my chest, then he did precisely what I told him not to and rolled off the bed, yanking his jeans up his hips.

“Hopper Kincaid, uncuff me!” I shrieked.

He stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned to me. “Don’t know, honey. It’s a crapshoot. They’re here often so Tyra and Tack could be just down the hall.”

My mouth snapped shut.

Hop burst out laughing.

This miffed me because he looked good doing it.

He always looked good laughing but somehow, even infuriated, cuffed to his bed, it hit me that he looked better doing it in his room, shirtless, jeans undone, after just having bedded me.

Damn!

I glared at him and watched as he and his great ass sauntered into the bathroom.

I flopped on the bed and jerked my cuffed hand around to see if the slat might be loose.

It wasn’t.

I stopped doing that, stared at the ceiling and seethed.

Mostly I seethed about Hop cuffing me to the bed, grinning and looking good laughing when I was angry, and I did this so I wouldn’t seethe at me getting out of bed at midnight, inexplicably finding trouble that could have been life-altering in a bad way, and ending the night somewhat naked, cuffed to Hop’s bed on Chaos.

I felt Hop come back into the room but I was concentrating so deeply on seething, I didn’t look at him. This got harder when the bed moved as he got in it. It got even harder when his hands wrapped around my ankles, pulled them apart and up, cocking my legs at the knees and planting my feet on the bed.

“You gonna stay pissed as I go down on you?” he asked. I tipped my chin down and saw him up on his forearms between my legs and something about that was exceptionally sexy.

Maybe it was because he was hot and he looked amused and…

Damn.

Happy.

I spoke no words. I just glared.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he muttered.

“Take whatever you want, you’re going to anyway,” I snapped.

“Damn straight,” he stated, dropped his head, kissed my belly then moved down to grasp my ankles.

He threw them over his shoulders.

I closed my eyes and, against my will, my body braced for bliss. It did this from experience. Hop liked the taste of me. He didn’t hide it and he also didn’t hide he liked me wrapped around him when he buried his face between my legs. When he ate me, he did it with my legs over his shoulders so he could eat with me all around, feel my excitement when I dug my heels in his back, scoop me up with his hands at my ass, suck hard and bury his tongue deep.

He lowered his mouth to me.

At just a touch, the heels of my platforms dug in and my neck arched in ecstasy.

Just a note: it was impossible to stay pissed at a handsome man when he had his mouth between your legs.

Especially if he really, really knew how to use that mouth.

So I didn’t.

Our night progressed just as Hop said it would.

Exhausted, I fell asleep against him.

Wearing his dirty tee.

The bed shifted.

Or, more accurately, Hop shifted in the bed and I woke.

Keeping my eyes closed, I noted we were spooning. I could feel Hop’s chest against my back; his arm was heavy on my waist and he had one knee cocked into both my bent legs.

All of this felt nice but his knee felt the nicest. It was forced between my legs so his thigh was resting, warm and hard, against the heat of me.

My first thought was to rub myself against his thigh.