Twist the Knife - Page 135

She shakes her head.

“Good.” I cup one breast, lightly pinching her nipple. “Are you game for another lesson?”

“Yes.”

I drag the shirt down her arms and toss it on the counter. “Come here.” Grabbing her by the hips again, I push her closer to the counter. “Brace your hands against the edge.”

She gets where I’m going with this immediately, bending at the waist to press her palms to the curved edge. “Like this?” She tilts her hips, tipping her ass up.

“Exactly.” I run my fingers down her spine, loving the way she trembles under my touch. “These shorts are cute, but they have to go.”

“Okay.” She twitches her hips from side to side as if asking me to hurry.

I drag them down her legs, stopping to kiss the backs of her thighs and sink my teeth in one round butt cheek. She hunches her back like she’s trying to hide. “No.” I tap her butt. “Arch your back for me.”

A hesitant grunt catches in her throat. I think I understand the problem. “Margot. I love your ass.” I trace my fingers over one cheek and down the back of her leg. “That night when we were all here.” I don’t remind her why we were here. “When you bent over in the kitchen downstairs to get that case of water, I had to work so hard to control myself.” I rise and, holding onto her hips, drag her back against me so she can feel how hard I am for her behind my fly. “I wanted to strip you out of that cute little bank robber outfit you were wearing and do exactly this.”

Short, nervous laughter bursts out of her. “You remember what I was wearing?”

“Yeah, you were fucking adorable.” Since that night I’ve been consumed by her but it seems like too much to admit. I wedge my hand between her thighs. “Spread your legs for me.”

She inches her feet apart.

I groan as I cup her bare pussy, sliding a finger between her lips. Anxious or not, she’s into this. “You’re so wet.” I tease her clit until she’s rocking against my hand.

She reaches one hand back, clutching at my jeans.

“No.” I place her hand back on the counter.

She turns her head and glares. “Why are your pants still on?”

I dip one finger inside her and groan when she closes her eyes and drops her head. Breathless and arching into my hand, she lets out a frustrated whine.

“Give me a minute.” I drag her wetness to her clit, slowly circling and teasing until I find the right motion that strings her body tight. I work my jeans loose with one hand and pull the condom I’d stashed in my pocket earlier free.

She moans and bucks against me as I fumble with the fucking rubber. “Hold on.”

Growling with annoyance, I have to stop touching her so I can use both hands to roll the condom down my dick.

She arches and wiggles. Raises up on her tiptoes, then down again. Eagerly waiting. I grab her hips. I have to bend at the knees to line us up but finally I’m sliding into her, fighting the urge to slam in one thrust.

“Yes,” she whispers, pressing back against me. She squeaks and retreats.

“Too much?” I ask, stopping my movements.

“No…just different.”

“Different good?” I squeeze her hips. “You move. Work yourself on my cock. Show me how much you need.”

She’s hesitant at first, then moves in unhurried, languid movements. I sink my teeth into my lip, pushing away my desire to bang away at her with quick, deep thrusts.

Her raspy moans echo around us. “Jensen,” she breathes.

“I’ve got you.” I push forward again, filling her with slow, even strokes.

“Oh God yes,” she whimpers.

Her body trembles and tightens. She clutches the counter, hanging on as I increase my pace.