Underneath It All (The Walsh Series #1) (8 page)

The last button slipped from its casing, and the dress was hanging open from her shoulders. I needed an outlet for everything I was feeling, a place to deposit this heaving energy. My mouth moved to her other breast for a matching bite. “No, sweetness. Just you.”

I couldn’t explain any of it; I just knew I wanted to leave my mark on her. Bites, scratches, swollen lips, messy hair. I wanted to see it all.

Her hips swayed against my erection. “You’re a strange creature.”

“And you’re insanely sexy.”

Blushing and diverting her eyes as if no one had ever spoken those words to her before, Lauren jerked the shirttails from my pants and struggled with the buttons while I raked my chin scruff against her skin.

“Not so fast,” I groaned, tugging her fingers out of my trousers.

I lifted Lauren off my lap and eyed the nude mesh boy shorts hugging her hips. The color blended with her skin and if not for the random splattering of embroidered dots, they would have created the illusion she was naked under that dress. It was beautiful and startling and yet again, I wanted nothing more than those fucking panties shredded in my fingers.

Kneeling before her, I unfastened the tiny buckles around her ankles and set the ass-kickers on the floor. Her knees were more bruised than scraped, and the blood long since dried. “I’m amazed you didn’t blow out your ankle on that fall. I’m not letting you get on your knees tonight, sweetness.”

“I’ve survived worse,” she said. She nodded toward the shoes. “Didn’t want to leave them on?”

I trailed kisses up her thighs before hooking my fingers in her panties. “We’ll save that for another night. It’s a very long list, after all.”

“I bet it’s huge,” she purred. Fuck me running, this girl knew her way around a double entendre. “But I don’t remember signing up for repeat performances.”

“Then it’s a good thing you like me because this might take a while.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Lauren’s while I tugged her panties down. I needed to see the way my words affected her, and I needed her to know we were a breath away from something we wouldn’t be able to control, and I needed her there with me.

“And I thought you’d be all wholesome pink cotton. Never expected this.”

I lifted the fabric to my face and inhaled her musky scent. No ordinary panties for Miss Halsted. They were fragile and lovely, and required the proper amount of admiration before this turned indecent. We stared at each other, her underwear pressed to my face and her body exposed before me.

I tucked them into my pocket and nudged her legs apart, and nothing could have prepared me for that treat when I finally broke away from her eyes. “And I certainly didn’t expect this.”

Recently and quite thoroughly waxed. So many contradictions in one woman but I couldn’t be sure which side of her dominated as she seemed to fight off both in equal measure. I teased my tongue down her slit, and her essence washed over me.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, her hands seizing my hair.

I leaned back and aimed a hard gaze at her. “God has nothing to do with this. You want to thank someone, I’ll be right here, worshipping you and your outrageous body for the foreseeable future. God isn’t involved.”

I latched my mouth on her clit, sucking and stroking until her legs tightened around my head, and she shrieked, “Matthew!”

I smiled against her, enjoying the sound of my name in her trembling voice. It was the best oral sex anthem I’d ever heard. Goosebumps spread over her skin, her eyes screwed shut, and I knew she was close when her nails bit into my scalp.

“Lauren,” I commanded. “Look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, hazed over with need and bright, bright green. The tousle of her hair, the flush riding along her cheeks, the erratic rise and fall of her chest—seeing it all from between her thighs was a new level of insanely sexy. She held my gaze as she rode the spasms, her eyes full and lips parted, then she slumped back against the sofa with a shuddering moan. She held nothing back, and I loved it.

The past day didn’t give me time to know everything about Lauren, and I wasn’t about to discover them all tonight, but I sensed we knew each other, recognized each other, and a few things were clear. First, she was under my skin and in my blood, and as much as I hated talking about spiritual shit, there was a possibility she knew me in another life. Second, she played the part of the wholesome schoolteacher, but pull back the boy shorts and she was very, very naughty. Third—and most importantly—no one was giving this woman what she needed. The way she came apart in my hands and the astonished reaction to her orgasm made that abundantly clear.

She raked her hands through my hair, and I interpreted her grip as an invitation to continue licking. Her tissues pulsed under my tongue, and that response felt better than finishing any triathlon.

“Oh my…Matthew,” she sighed.

Possessiveness spread out from my chest and through my limbs, and the air around me tasted different, new. I didn’t care whether it was only tonight; she could be mine right now. My teeth connected with Lauren’s inner thigh, and I nipped the tender skin there, raining kisses over the blossoming welt. “That’s right,” I growled.

My hands ran up her legs, palming the globes of her ass. I fought the urge to plunge into her right there but I wanted more than messy sofa sex. I wanted messy bed sex where there was enough room to spread her out and move in her, and then fall asleep with her wrapped around me, and then do it all over again. And after that we’d try it again with the ass-kicking heels.

I secured Lauren’s legs around my waist and lifted her into my arms. My cock throbbed miserably, and nestling against the soft rise of her belly only made it worse. As much as I wanted to see a puddle on her stomach, I wanted it after my cock spent an extensive amount of time inside her. Striding toward the bedroom, I pulled her dress down her arms and tossed it in my wake.

“This is like Carly Rae Jepsen crazy, right?” she laughed, her mouth pressed against the pounding pulse on my throat while I relieved her of her bra.

“What’s that?”

“I just met you, and we’re… It’s not ‘Call Me Maybe’ but it’s crazy. Do you do this a lot?”

“You need to stop asking that,” I said, my mouth against Lauren’s. “Do you not recall me telling you you’re hot as fuck?”

My fingers continued their descent and trailed along the seam of her ass to brush back and forth there. Her legs tightened and she rocked against my fingers. Another thing I didn’t expect from Lauren.

I deposited her on the bed, her skin gleaming in the darkness.

“Men always have such big beds,” she murmured. Her hand cruised over the dark blankets.

I stopped, my fingers frozen on my half-buttoned shirt. “For our purposes right now, let’s not discuss you in anyone else’s bed.” Circling my hand in that direction, I shook my head. “In fact, I’d be good letting myself believe there haven’t been any others.”

She was all pin-up, all the time, but her innocence lingered around the edges, and I preferred it that way.

Lauren murmured something under her breath, looked up from beneath her lashes, and reached for me. “You sound like a caveman. I should
not
like that so much.”

Her hair tumbled over her shoulders and she was bare save for the necklace nestled between her breasts. My fingers coasted down her chest and traced the rose quartz pendant crowned with a tiny pearl. “What is this?”

Lauren smirked and watched my finger moving over the shape. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. “I think you know.”

Lifting the pendant, I studied it in the moonlight. It resembled a flower, maybe a lily or even a conch shell, and my thumb circled the pearl again.

“You’re good at that,” she laughed. She unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it down my arms.

And then I figured it out. It wasn’t a flower. It was a pussy, an artfully carved pussy complete with a pearl clit, and she kept it hidden between her tits.

“You’re a filthy, filthy girl. Pull back the sheets,” I barked when she reached for my belt. I didn’t know where I found the steely command, but I’d show her something about cavemen.

Grinning, Lauren crawled away from me. While I struggled to shuck my pants, she folded the bed coverings and sat back. I felt saliva pooling in my mouth and I pursed my lips to keep from drooling. The sight of Lauren kneeling on my bed, her voluptuous body exposed and patiently awaiting instructions, left my brain screaming
now
and
mine
.

“What would you like me to do, Matthew?”

Absently throwing my pants toward the corner, I choked down the frantic desire throbbing in my veins, the drumbeat vibrating in my muscles and nerves, the energy pulsing from my fingertips. She was sweet and pure and obscene, and nothing like what I knew. “Lie back,” I ground out. “I want to watch you touching yourself.”

Lauren’s eyebrows quirked at my request and she paused, blinking. There she was again with that innocence, and for a second, I doubted my request. Her suggestive comments were equally matched by timid ones, her bold touches balanced out by the tentative, but something about that pale pink necklace revealed the true Lauren.

Or maybe it was the Lauren she wanted to be.

“I’m waiting,” I said.

Her gaze fixed on me, she licked her lips and allowed her hands to skim along her belly and hips. She brushed her fingers on her outer folds, and I growled when she shuddered and moaned. Her breathing quickened, and a flush covered her body. It wasn’t a game to her. This was as much for her pleasure as it was for mine. She wasn’t angling for porn star choreography or even shy seductiveness. She was only concerned with getting off on her own fingers, and that honesty made for a rare flavor of foreplay.

Two fingers slipped inside and her thumb circled her clit, moving with measured strokes. Time slowed to the pace of my ragged breaths yet I felt it blurring and screeching past me. I concentrated on memorizing every inch, every movement, every sound.

Underneath her sassy sweetness Lauren was bold and wicked and precious. I loved it, I loved that there was no time for taboos, and I loved the way she watched me watching her. It was sexy as hell but best of all, it was instructive.

“Don’t be so shy,” Lauren whispered.

I gazed at her, unblinking and speechless. My cock was begging for her, straining and weeping from behind my boxer briefs. They hit the floor, and I groaned when my fist jerked down my throbbing length.

The sounds of skin sliding over skin were spellbinding, and we fell into a staccato rhythm, watching each other. I didn’t pay much attention to what I was doing, but Lauren studied my hand as it glided up and down. Her fingers moved quickly, instinctively, and I saw her fighting the balance between learning how I liked it and surrendering to her body and her needs.

And I didn’t want her making that choice.

“Tell me what you want.”

Confusion flashed through her eyes before her head lolled back on a throaty wail. “Matthew,” she moaned. “Get your cock and fuck me with it
now
.”

If there were better words to hear, I didn’t know them.

I snagged a condom from the bedside drawer and knelt between Lauren’s shaking legs as I rolled it down. Her deep hum of agreement and self-satisfied smile when she saw my cock pointed directly at her sent tingles through my body. I pushed into her on a rough grunt, and her incredible tightness was unlike anything. Urgent, eager sensations bit at the base of my spine and I traced the pulse hammering in her wrists, inhaling and exhaling to slow it all down.

“Is this what you wanted, filthy girl?”

She wrapped her legs around me in response, and my arm cradled her hips. I lifted her to me, angling her body to receive me, take me deeper, take all of me. She clenched, and the constricting pressure was divine. Prickles of release shot along my spine again, and my next thrust pushed us to the other side of the bed.

I held her hands down, my mouth sucking hard at her taut nipple as thin spasms rolled through her core. She arched against my mouth, clawing at my hands, whispering stuttered pleas into my ear. “Tell me how you want me, Matthew.”

The droplet of tequila clinging to her lip forced its way into my mind, followed by the greatest hits of every scrap of porn I’d ever seen.

“Fuck, sweetness. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

And I didn’t think she was. The things I wanted were wild and hedonistic. It didn’t matter how many taboos we crushed; I was essentially having a threesome with Lauren and her naïveté right now, and I wasn’t about to ask if I could come on her tits. I wasn’t going to be the asshole who took it too far when this was already fucking phenomenal.

“Maybe I am,” she said. “Maybe I want you to fuck me like I’m your dirty little slut.”

Looking up from between her breasts, I stared at Lauren, uncertainty and discomfort ticking away and multiplying between us as her words spread over me, sinking into my skin and claiming space in my vocabulary. They were wrong—so much of this was wrong—and the opposite of my expectations, yet exactly what I needed, and the slight smirk pulling at her lips told me it was what she needed, too.

“You’re all mine.” I growled against her neck and rocked into her hard, quietly begging her to utter that raw request over and over.

“Is that what you want?” she whispered.

I groaned into her mouth, kissing and biting and murmuring that it was exactly what I wanted, that she was what I wanted. Pumping frantically as I neared the end, I laced Lauren’s fingers with mine, our eyes locked, and she whispered those words again, soft and low, and nothing like the bomb she dropped earlier.

One hard thrust and we were falling from the bed, tumbling to the floor with a thud, a heap of sheets and pillows and blankets cushioning our fall. That didn’t stop the lightning zipping through me, or the explosion leaving my brain blank and muscles numb, or the rolling, pulsing spasm in her center.

Breathless, I collapsed on top of her, my face buried in the crook of her neck. Everything about Lauren was orders of magnitude better than I imagined when she walked into my office earlier today, and now I knew the taste of her skin, the scent of her hair, and the beautiful obscenity of her mind. “Are you all right?”