Thief of Hearts
Page 52
“Yeah well, sometimes I want to tell my friends to stop mentally undressing my woman.”
I sucked in a breath, not knowing whether to continue being angry or to melt at him calling me his woman.
I wanted him.
But I also wanted to throttle him.
Admittedly though, I wanted him more than I wanted to throttle him.
And honestly, the way he looked at me made me feel weak. I felt like I was his and it had happened practically against my will. It was like waking up one day with red hair when you’d always been a blonde. You’re at a loss to explain how it happened.
He let out a gruff breath and dragged a hand through his locks, not looking at me as he spoke. “I feel like I’m not good enough for you sometimes, and seeing that posh prick flirt with you just hammered it home.”
“Stu, that’s ridiculous. You need to quit thinking that way. You also need to realise that I’m not interested in “posh pricks” like Renfield, I’m interested in you. Only you. And you’re definitely good enough.”
At this he unclipped both our seatbelts and pulled me to him, deftly dragging me onto his lap just like when we were in his car the other night. Only now we were in a BMW and there was a lot more room.
“You’re not invisible like you think you are,” he whispered, eyes holding mine intensely. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful. I see you.”
His fervent words took me off guard. He reached up and pulled off my wig before freeing my hair from the clip beneath. It fell long and heavy around my shoulders. “I see every gorgeous inch of you. Hold still,” he ordered, placing his hand around my neck to keep me from moving. His fingers dug into my throat, making me feel oddly vulnerable. With his other hand he caressed my cheek then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the touch reverent. He tipped my chin up so I was looking at him. “And these eyes are my favourite,” he went on, whispering now. “Never hide them, Andrea.”
My entire body tingled, my skirt hitched so high around my waist that my underwear was exposed. Stu’s breathing was fast, his arousal evident in the hardness that pressed against my inner thigh.
Again, I wanted him.
“You’re so infuriating,” I said, but my voice held no anger anymore, only desire.
“And you’re sexy. Come here.”
Stu took my chin, pulling my mouth to his for a hard, possessive kiss. My pulse skyrocketed. One half of me wanted to tell him to stop, to let me get back into my seat so he could drive me home. The other half—the half that was winning—wanted his hands all over me. We kissed like two people starved for air. I gripped his shirt, then started undoing it button by button. Once I had enough of them free I slid my hands over his chest, feeling every hard, muscular inch of him.
His mouth smiled around our kiss. “Gonna let me return the favour, luv?”
I shivered at the idea of him feeling me like I was feeling him right then. My breasts ached for it. “Yes, touch me. Please.”
Stu squeezed my hips, running his fingers up my thighs before bringing them to my blouse. He had it open in seconds, and before I knew it he’d unclipped my bra and my breasts were bare.
“Perfect,” he murmured, moulding them with his hands and pinching my nipples. I grew slick and ready, a delicious friction building between my underwear and his trousers. I moved my hips, rubbing against his hard length a little more aggressively than I intended. In spite of the larger front seat, my backside hit off the dashboard, pressing on a button and causing the radio to come to life. Hounds of Love by The Futureheads blared from the speakers.
Stu chuckled but he didn’t let me pull away, even though I was a little embarrassed. The song was weirdly appropriate, the volume so loud it was surely going to attract attention, even with all the windows closed. I tried to reach for the buttons to turn it off but Stu pulled me back to him.
“Leave it,” he growled, like he couldn’t stand the idea of breaking our kiss for even a second. He cupped either side of my face and kissed me with such passion I felt it all the way to my toes. Fast guitar music filled the car as he slid his tongue deep into my mouth, tasting me, claiming me. I trembled, my hands gripping his shoulders now as I continued to rut against him. Stu broke the kiss to stare up at me in awe, his eyes taking all of me in.
“Christ, look at you.”
“Stu, I need—”
He put a finger to my lips. “Hush, I know.”
After that we were nothing but commands and fevered grabbing.
His hand gripped my hip, the other massaged my breast.
“Kiss me.”
I slid my fingers up and down his length and brought my mouth to his.
“You’re so hard.”
He palmed my arse and slid his fingers past the elastic of my underwear.
“And you’re so wet.”
“Faster.”
“Like this?”
“Yes.”
“Need your mouth, luv.”
More kissing, tongues, wet heat, friction. I hurried to undo his fly and pull his erection free, feeling his hot silky skin for the first time.
“Give me . . .”
“Need to . . .”
“Wait.”
Heavy breathing. Hands fumbling.
Pressure.
Pressure.
Such lovely pressure. The music continued to blare around us, but I was too lost in him to care. People might be able to see us, still, neither one of us cared. We were need and desire and emotions entangled. His cock slid against my sex and we both moaned simultaneously.
“Stu.”
“No.”
“Stu.”
“I said no, Andrea.”
I bit my lip. “Please.”
“I fucking . . . I fucking don’t have . . . Oh God, quit doing that for a second,” he panted and shifted me in his lap, then leaned forward to reach for the glove compartment. I kissed his neck, loving how his skin pebbled beneath my mouth while he rifled through his friend’s stuff, searching for a condom.
“Terry, you fucking legend,” he swore then came back to me, a small foil packet in his hand. I didn’t stop kissing his neck as he reached between us, vaguely aware of him tearing the packet open with his teeth. Jesus, that was sexy.
He slid the condom down his length and dragged my mouth away from his neck so he could kiss me properly. His tongue was hard and unrelenting. I lifted my hips so he could position himself beneath me. I gasped and bit his lower lip when his cock nudged inside me the tiniest bit. My eyes were closed but I opened them to find him watching me, soaking me in. His gaze was fierce, wild, his need for me clear as day. He continued to watch me as I lowered, letting him fill me completely.
I sucked in a breath, not knowing whether to continue being angry or to melt at him calling me his woman.
I wanted him.
But I also wanted to throttle him.
Admittedly though, I wanted him more than I wanted to throttle him.
And honestly, the way he looked at me made me feel weak. I felt like I was his and it had happened practically against my will. It was like waking up one day with red hair when you’d always been a blonde. You’re at a loss to explain how it happened.
He let out a gruff breath and dragged a hand through his locks, not looking at me as he spoke. “I feel like I’m not good enough for you sometimes, and seeing that posh prick flirt with you just hammered it home.”
“Stu, that’s ridiculous. You need to quit thinking that way. You also need to realise that I’m not interested in “posh pricks” like Renfield, I’m interested in you. Only you. And you’re definitely good enough.”
At this he unclipped both our seatbelts and pulled me to him, deftly dragging me onto his lap just like when we were in his car the other night. Only now we were in a BMW and there was a lot more room.
“You’re not invisible like you think you are,” he whispered, eyes holding mine intensely. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful. I see you.”
His fervent words took me off guard. He reached up and pulled off my wig before freeing my hair from the clip beneath. It fell long and heavy around my shoulders. “I see every gorgeous inch of you. Hold still,” he ordered, placing his hand around my neck to keep me from moving. His fingers dug into my throat, making me feel oddly vulnerable. With his other hand he caressed my cheek then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the touch reverent. He tipped my chin up so I was looking at him. “And these eyes are my favourite,” he went on, whispering now. “Never hide them, Andrea.”
My entire body tingled, my skirt hitched so high around my waist that my underwear was exposed. Stu’s breathing was fast, his arousal evident in the hardness that pressed against my inner thigh.
Again, I wanted him.
“You’re so infuriating,” I said, but my voice held no anger anymore, only desire.
“And you’re sexy. Come here.”
Stu took my chin, pulling my mouth to his for a hard, possessive kiss. My pulse skyrocketed. One half of me wanted to tell him to stop, to let me get back into my seat so he could drive me home. The other half—the half that was winning—wanted his hands all over me. We kissed like two people starved for air. I gripped his shirt, then started undoing it button by button. Once I had enough of them free I slid my hands over his chest, feeling every hard, muscular inch of him.
His mouth smiled around our kiss. “Gonna let me return the favour, luv?”
I shivered at the idea of him feeling me like I was feeling him right then. My breasts ached for it. “Yes, touch me. Please.”
Stu squeezed my hips, running his fingers up my thighs before bringing them to my blouse. He had it open in seconds, and before I knew it he’d unclipped my bra and my breasts were bare.
“Perfect,” he murmured, moulding them with his hands and pinching my nipples. I grew slick and ready, a delicious friction building between my underwear and his trousers. I moved my hips, rubbing against his hard length a little more aggressively than I intended. In spite of the larger front seat, my backside hit off the dashboard, pressing on a button and causing the radio to come to life. Hounds of Love by The Futureheads blared from the speakers.
Stu chuckled but he didn’t let me pull away, even though I was a little embarrassed. The song was weirdly appropriate, the volume so loud it was surely going to attract attention, even with all the windows closed. I tried to reach for the buttons to turn it off but Stu pulled me back to him.
“Leave it,” he growled, like he couldn’t stand the idea of breaking our kiss for even a second. He cupped either side of my face and kissed me with such passion I felt it all the way to my toes. Fast guitar music filled the car as he slid his tongue deep into my mouth, tasting me, claiming me. I trembled, my hands gripping his shoulders now as I continued to rut against him. Stu broke the kiss to stare up at me in awe, his eyes taking all of me in.
“Christ, look at you.”
“Stu, I need—”
He put a finger to my lips. “Hush, I know.”
After that we were nothing but commands and fevered grabbing.
His hand gripped my hip, the other massaged my breast.
“Kiss me.”
I slid my fingers up and down his length and brought my mouth to his.
“You’re so hard.”
He palmed my arse and slid his fingers past the elastic of my underwear.
“And you’re so wet.”
“Faster.”
“Like this?”
“Yes.”
“Need your mouth, luv.”
More kissing, tongues, wet heat, friction. I hurried to undo his fly and pull his erection free, feeling his hot silky skin for the first time.
“Give me . . .”
“Need to . . .”
“Wait.”
Heavy breathing. Hands fumbling.
Pressure.
Pressure.
Such lovely pressure. The music continued to blare around us, but I was too lost in him to care. People might be able to see us, still, neither one of us cared. We were need and desire and emotions entangled. His cock slid against my sex and we both moaned simultaneously.
“Stu.”
“No.”
“Stu.”
“I said no, Andrea.”
I bit my lip. “Please.”
“I fucking . . . I fucking don’t have . . . Oh God, quit doing that for a second,” he panted and shifted me in his lap, then leaned forward to reach for the glove compartment. I kissed his neck, loving how his skin pebbled beneath my mouth while he rifled through his friend’s stuff, searching for a condom.
“Terry, you fucking legend,” he swore then came back to me, a small foil packet in his hand. I didn’t stop kissing his neck as he reached between us, vaguely aware of him tearing the packet open with his teeth. Jesus, that was sexy.
He slid the condom down his length and dragged my mouth away from his neck so he could kiss me properly. His tongue was hard and unrelenting. I lifted my hips so he could position himself beneath me. I gasped and bit his lower lip when his cock nudged inside me the tiniest bit. My eyes were closed but I opened them to find him watching me, soaking me in. His gaze was fierce, wild, his need for me clear as day. He continued to watch me as I lowered, letting him fill me completely.
