A Secret Vow: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (6 page)

BOOK: A Secret Vow: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance
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She squeezes my back with her palms, raking nails gently down my sides. Our ankles are locked together, bringing our hips to grind against each other with an intensity that keeps growing with each rotation. My hand keeps dancing around her inner thighs, swooping close to the seat of her desire and then away again. Tease, retreat, repeat.

 

“I can’t take it anymore,” she tells me. “Don’t tease me.”

 

I grin. “We’ll get there.”

 

She tries to coo a soft, “No,” but I cut her off with another plunge of my tongue. I’ve never been so aware of the passion building between two people tangled in each other. Usually, my goal is to get in and get out as quickly as possible. No sense in delaying what I came here for.

 

But with Kendra, it’s different. I wonder why. What is there about this girl that makes me want to take my time? Why am I more concerned with sending pleasure racking through her body than I am about getting my own nut? It’s such a departure from my standard operating procedure that I don’t even know how to start thinking about it. Nothing else to do but follow what I want. Right now, what I want is to see Kendra squirming on my cock.

 

I roll to the side so I can more easily access Kendra’s pulsing sex. She’s wet against my fingertips in spite of the lace that separates her skin from my touch. I rub the heel of my hand with an easy pressure against her mound, loving the way she pushes her hips back against me in response. Then, with the softest hint of a fingertip, I slip beneath the fabric and rest my finger on her opening. Like I’m playing a piano, the note that comes out of her mouth is pure and beautiful.

 

“More,” she gasps. She sounds like she is close to coming already. I can’t blame her for being so eager. The intensity vibrating between us has me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. But instead of being impatient to dive in, I want to draw out every step with excruciating persistence. Let us wait. Let us burn longer. Let us burn hotter.

 

I kiss her neck while I keep my finger pressed gently on her slickness. When I feel like she’s waited long enough, I start to push it in. I move incredibly slowly, letting her absorb me within her at a glacial pace. I am immersed in her moisture and heat, both of which flow out of her faster and faster with every further inch of my finger.

 

Finally, I reach my last knuckle. I start to pull it out again to start anew, but she grabs my wrist.

 

“Don’t go,” she says.

 

I smile more. Without a word, I pluck her hand away from mine and pin it above her head. I do the same with her other arm, so that she is trapped beneath my teasing touch. She whimpers again, but it isn’t in fear or frustration. It’s the moan of someone preparing to come harder than she’s ever come in her life.

 

I pull my finger out completely and let her sit for a moment. After this, there’s no going back. She responds exactly how she should—with the longest, most plaintive plea and begging stare I’ve ever seen. I’m instantly on edge. That look alone could make a weaker man come. All reservation is gone from her eyes. This is what she wants.

 

And I’m the only man who can give it to her.

 

Moving quicker, I push two fingers inside of her wet cunt while my thumb starts to rub circles on her throbbing clit. Her whole body comes to life, jerking at random intervals like a live wire. Her eyes are closed and she is gnawing on her lip feverishly. Little moans escape whenever she can no longer hold them back.

 

Inside of her, I curl my fingers back towards me, palm up, and stroke on the rough patch of her g-spot. The motion on her clit and my fingers within her combine and push until I can see she is teetering on the edge of coming.

 

It won’t take much more for her to fall. But I don’t want this to be just a regular climax. I want it to be nothing less than earth-shattering.

 

I release her arms and dive between her thighs to add my mouth to the mix. Wet, sloppy, frantic, I bathe her core in huge swathes of my tongue. I don’t let my hands stop urging her closer while I lick and kiss at her clit and lips. She seizes my hair, and clenches her thighs as I coax her up, until she soars into an orgasm.

 

The muscles of her legs spasm against the sides of my head. I stop fingering her, but I maintain a steady pressure on her clit with my tongue as she comes. Her chest quivers. She sucks in breath and struggles to let it go. Even behind her closed eyes, I can see her eyes trembling. Nearly a minute goes by as she continues to twitch under my touch.

 

Eventually, she eases down, drawing in huge gulps of air like she was starved for it. Her eyes open, and I’m struck again by everything that is written in them, all the trust, the immense desire. I look up at her between her legs. She doesn’t say anything—and she doesn’t need to—as she pulls me towards her.

 

Our mouths meet midway. Her lips suck greedily at the juices painted on my tongue and chin. She tastes herself on me and sucks in harder like she wants more. I know the feeling. Her hands go back to rubbing up and down my torso. She lets one drop to the bulge in my jeans and grips ravenously at my burgeoning cock.

 

I pivot back to a seated position and pull her to straddling me. Her dress is splayed out across my lap and I can feel the molten heat of her pussy spreading through my jeans. I pull back from our kiss and stare at her for a moment. She looks back, eyes wide open and brimming with physical need.

 

“What do you want?” I ask her. I want to hear her say it. As soon as she says what I know she will say, then I can be sure that she is mine. I want to fuck Grady right out of her life. This is the first step.

 

She answers immediately. “I want you. I want to feel you everywhere.”

 

“Let’s go.” I put my hands under her ass and stand. She wraps her legs behind my back as we kiss and stumble our way to my bedroom down the hall. We reach the foot of the bed, still tongue-deep in each other, and I gently put her back on her feet.

 

I twine my fingers between hers and take a half-step back. Carefully, I raise our hands above her head and spin her slowly so that she faces away from me. The moon is filtering in through the sheer curtains, lighting up the dark skin of her bare shoulders. The mood between us is as delicate and fragile as Kendra herself. Every touch must be careful.

 

I reach to her back and grab the tag of her dress’s zipper. Drawing down slowly, I expose successive inches of her skin to the moonbeams. Her back comes into view, half-lit and beautiful. Our breath is the only sound in the room—bated, cautious, but burning with anticipation.

 

The sides of her dress peel down. I put my hands to her hips and pinch the fabric, then slide it down. She stands still, looking halfway back over her shoulder at me, letting me undress her in the silent, shadowy bedroom. The air feels like glass. One wrong move and the whole thing might shatter.

 

The dress falls to the floor in a milky white puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra. There are only her thin white panties separating her from total nakedness. Kendra turns to face me. Her body is shaking from head to toe as she tilts up her chin to steal a tiny kiss. She retreats, almost fearfully, eyes roaming my face in search of a reaction.

 

Then, as if we have turned some invisible corner, the glassy fragility of the air implodes, and flame rushes in. We grab each other with renewed intensity as our mouths suck at each other. I bite her neck, her earlobes, her shoulders, while my hands grab tight palmfuls of her ass and thighs. Her body feels even more delicious than I first imagined when I saw her at the club. It curves and gives exactly where it should, like she was designed for me to hold.

 

She pushes the shirt over my head to reveal my torso, running fingertips along the indents of my abs. Without pausing, she undoes the buckle of my belt and pushes my jeans to the floor. My manhood stands erect between us. She grabs onto it and starts to stroke slowly while rubbing the tip against her hot pussy.

 

I pick her up by the hips and toss her casually onto the bed. She lands with a surprised gasp. She has barely enough time to draw in breath before I’m on her again, kissing insatiably, squeezing and nipping and pressing my skin against hers. I lean back, pull her panties down her legs, and toss them to the side. She starts to tuck her knees together out of instinct, but I ease them apart and lick teasingly at her weeping cunt. She sighs and fumbles at the sheets for purchase.

 

There’s no time to wait anymore. I can’t bear not being inside of her. One look at her face and I know she feels the same way.

 

“I’ll be right back,” I say.

 

“Wait, what? Where are you going?” she panics. I see her fingertips are shaking. I can see a flush in her cheeks even through the cinnamon shade of her skin.

 

I ignore her questions as I pad over to my bedside table. Opening the drawer, I pull out a condom before retreating back to the foot of the bed. I stand over her, cock at full attention, looking down at the insanely beautiful girl spread naked on my comforter.

 

Tearing open the foil packaging, I roll the rubber down my length. I toss the wrapper aside and clamber to kneel in front of Kendra. I line my erection up with her opening, but before I put it in, I hesitate.

 

She props herself on her elbows to look at me. We stare into each other’s eyes for what feels like centuries as heat builds around and between us. I wonder how long I can hold out. I’m determined to make her beg for me, but I can see her fighting the urge, too.

 

She breaks first. Leaning forward to kiss me, she wraps a hand around the base of my shaft and pulls me inside of her. The greedy sucking of her cunt around me is almost enough to make me come on the first stroke. I fight it back, though. This fucking deserves to be long and slow.

 

Kendra falls back onto her shoulder blades and pulls me towards her. I lean over to lick her neck as I slide my hips forward to meet hers. It’s a good thing she is so wet; otherwise, she might be too tight for me to penetrate.

 

The first few strokes are deep, easy, slow. I start to speed up as we kiss harder and her nails claw down my back. Every pump elicits a new moan from her in my ear. I arrange her legs around my back to gain new leverage as I thrust into her with reckless speed.

 

“Oh, oh, Mortar,” she whines to me in a raspy voice.

 

I growl a wordless response and buck faster.

 

I reach a hand between her legs and stroke her clit. The first few circles are enough to send her rocketing over the hill of a second orgasm. She squeezes around me, clinging to me as she rides out the waves coursing through her veins. The moans devolve into a breathless panting. Her nails dig deeper.

 

As soon as she regains her breath, I flip onto my back. She rolls with me, coming to a rest with a knee on either side of my torso. Barely a second passes before we are deep in the throes of thrusting against each other again. My cock slides into her sheath and withdraws for a brief taste of air before I plunge back into her. She leans back with her hands on my thighs, exposing her brown breasts to the moonlight. I seize a rough handful of them as she bounces on me. The contrast of my pale skin against her coffee shade is its own kind of beautiful.

 

I’m getting too close to coming. It’s almost impossible to resist the urge. Kendra swings her weight forward, plants her palms on my chest, and starts to ride me furiously, her hips nearly a blur as she bobs up and down.

 

I can’t hold back anymore. I feel my balls clench and I unleash a fiery load of cum with a guttural roar. Kendra looks straight at me as I come inside of her. Those eyes alone are enough.

 

Goddamn.

 

After what feels like hours, I let my head fall back on the pillow. I’m fucking spent. Kendra collapses by my side. Sweat gleams from her skin and mine. That shit was hard work.

 

As the heat of the sex cools from our bodies, I feel Kendra growing stiff beside me. The open pliancy she’d had before is gone now, replaced by a coldness I can practically feel. I look over to her and see her forehead knitted in concern.

 

“You okay?” I ask. I’m still catching my breath.

 

She doesn’t answer.

 

“Kendra,” I repeat. “Is something wrong?” I notice her breath is rapid and shallow. It doesn’t take a genius to see that she’s on the verge of a full-on panic attack.

 

“He’s going to kill me,” she says. “He’s going to kill us both.” Her voice is cold and barely more than a whisper.

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