Twist My Heart, Brooke Taylor [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

rasped against my ear, “Taste me again. Mark me.” The piercing growl in his urgent demand coiled heat deep in my belly. Grasping my hips, he pulled me flush against him, the hard outline of his erection pressing into my stomach.

Skimming his fingertips to my cheeks, Nik softly guided my face to look up at his. Sharpened eyes locked on mine. With a nip to my lower lip, his teeth plucked it like he had earlier done to my nipple. Just enough pain to get my attention. “Anywhere you want. Everywhere. Bite me. Be rough. I won’t break.”

Running my mouth from his neck to his shoulder, I let my teeth scrape lightly over his taut flesh. My fingers were enthralled by each masculine thing on his body, every part of him differing from me. His sheer solidity. From the armored ink capping his arm to the hardened muscles along his strong shoulders.

“You’ve already explored me there,” he impatiently snarled under his breath. The sight of his flexed arms as he gripped the table behind him, all roping tendons and strong veins, captivated me. “And there, too.”

“And you’re not very good at the Quiet Game,” I shot back with a little grin.

“I’ve already lost. My mind, my sanity. Whatever might be left of my goddamned soul.” Hard fingers twined in my hair. I couldn’t physically feel the grip, only the intensity pulsing from the flex of his forearm as it pressed against the side of my head. If his intentions were to provoke me into submission he’d have to do better. I leaned, nestling my cheek against his fisting hand. Angling my neck, I nuzzled the soft, dark hair coating his forearm with my nose. God, he smelled good. Pressing my lips against the underside of his wrist, I flicked my tongue over his skin. Tasted good, too.

On a growl, his lips tucked his constricted words close to my ear, private. “I didn’t tease you in the dressing room with nuzzles and breathy kisses, did I? I gave you exactly what you needed, right where you craved it most. And you and I both know you didn’t toss my T-shirt over the camera just so you could run your fingertips across my arms and chest again.”

My diaphragm sucked in tight as the vibration of his words combined with the memory of his fingers. At the piercing nip to my earlobe, a breathy little squeak shot through my lips. Oh, he was definitely doing better, and the look in his eyes indicated he wasn’t even close to being finished.

“Tell me, Thea, what on my body are you the most curious about? The most anxious to touch?”

I pointedly lowered my eyes to the exact location.

He leaned in to whisper, “God, Thea, no woman’s ever made me so desperate to show her how I’ll feel inside her and you do it with just a fucking look.” The raw-sounding words swirled between the shield of my hair and the shell of my ear. Spoken so quietly and yet impacting me with such percussion. “But there is only one way for you to know exactly how good my cock will feel wrapped in your fingers…between your lips…inside your mouth…deep in your body.”

He pulled back to look me in the eye. His brow cocked as he mouthed the words, Don’t be shy. Uncoiling his grip, he gave my hair a teasing flip meant to egg me on.

With a playful jab of my index finger to his chest, I pushed his body off mine, giving myself some room to work with. He leaned back against the metal table watching as I shucked off the heavy winter coat. Folding it into a cushion, I dropped it to his feet. Gleaming down, his eyes filled with a mix of excitement, heat, and a little bit of questioning.

I slid my hand down the front of jeans to his hardened girth. His cock bounced as an appreciative rumble emitted from his throat. Unbuttoning his pants, I eased the zipper down to the sounds of his stuttering exhale. His abs flexed, rippling as if simply standing there was taking every single muscle.

My fingers skimmed across his skin, down through the soft trail of hair past his belly button as it disappeared into his waistband. My other hand fisted around the band of his jeans and with a sharp tug I had both his pants and his black boxer briefs down low on his hips and him right where I wanted—the palm of my hand.

“Shit.” He gulped as he gripped the table’s edge. The rasp of his breath scraped the quiet air as he intently watched my fingers curl around the smooth, veined skin on his freed shaft. Stroking the hardened flesh, I learned the shape and feel of him. I, too, watched as my palm cupped around the firm head, marveling at the way it thumped into my grip as I slid my fingers back down.

I strengthened my hold to keep him from popping out of my grasp, but feared I might hurt him. Reaching out for one of his hands, I guided it over mine as I lifted my eyes questioningly to his. His Adam’s apple bounced on a swallow as his hand closed over mine, teaching me with each jerking pull exactly how tight I should grasp, how fast, how rough he wanted it. And he liked it a lot rougher than I’d assumed from the more delicate and precise way he’d pleasured me.

His hand soon lifted away from mine, returning to grip the table behind him as his breathing turned into panting. A dewy bead of wetness glistened on the capped head of his cock. My lips parted as I lowered, dropping to my knees on the folded jacket. I spiraled the tip of my tongue along his thick shaft, then took a few turns around the underside of the head, before opening wider so my upper lip could scrape the cream from his crown. Just like I had taken