Free Dirty Girl by Jenika Snow

iron rod between her legs, and her pussy grew moist.
    “I don’t want you in control.” He nipped at her nipple. “I want you to feel just as wild as I do.” He smoothed his hands over her sides and down her back to grip her ass. He squeezed the mounds almost painfully, but then he suddenly stopped and slowly backed off on the frenzied actions.
    “What’s wrong?”
    He lay back on the bed and grinned up at her. “Nothing, baby, but I know you have to be sore, and I’m in no rush. I plan on having more of you, because tonight is not the fucking last time we do this.”
    Her heart started beating fast and hard, and she actually grew frightened by his statement. She had just gotten out of one relationship, only hours ago in fact, and although she wanted Booshie in a real, raw way, she didn’t think having anything more than sex with him was smart. But on the heels of that thought she felt embarrassed, because maybe that was all he was implying … sex? Maybe she had been this easy piece of ass—which she had, since he picked her up at the bar in like ten minutes—and now he saw her as a pussy on demand? God, now she felt ridiculous for thinking he wanted more than what they were doing right now, but at the same time she was relieved.
    “You okay?”
    She slid off of him and nodded in response. “Yeah, just my thoughts went wayward for a minute.” She sat on the edge of the bed, and although she wasn’t buzzed anymore, she also didn’t have her car, and therefore couldn’t run away like she wanted to do right now.
    “You don’t seem okay.”
    She looked over her shoulder and watched as he sat up and stood. He was buck naked, and God did he wear it well. Nothing but hard muscle covered him, and when he turned and faced her and she got a look at his now semi-hard cock with that silver barbell pierced right through the crown of his shaft, she had to curl her fingers into her palms.
    “You keep looking at me like that and I won’t be able to stop myself from tackling you to the bed and mounting you like some kind of fucking animal.”
    “You mean again?” She grinned. Here Naggie thought she didn’t have a filter, or that she was coarse. Compared to Booshie she felt like this virgin Catholic schoolgirl. She glanced away quickly, but couldn’t help but smile. Before she could move Booshie was back on the bed and had her pinned beneath him. He used a knee to pry her legs apart and pressed his erection into her already wet pussy. A gasp left her, and then a moaned followed that.
    “You were going someplace in your mind that was fucking up the vibe of this evening.” He didn’t say it accusingly, but more that he was concerned. “You want to talk about what is going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He braced his forearms on the bed beside her head and ran his cheek along hers. His beard tickled and scratched her cheek, but what caught her so off guard was this softer side of him. Being underneath all of his hard muscles made her feel fragile almost. Naggie could actually picture herself comfortable in his embrace, and not just because she had a little liquid courage going through her, or that Booshie made her feel something different. It wasn’t because she was feeling pissed and down. He had been there and hadn’t disappointed in helping her forget about that motherfucker Rob or that skank Tally, that was for damn sure. For the last several months she’d felt like a teenager getting all giddy when she’d see him, but she had been with Rob, and she wasn’t unfaithful, unlike that asshole.
    “Can I tell you something without you thinking I am all kinds of weird?”
    He grinned down at her, but it was one of those corner mouth ones that made him look like he was up to no good. “Of course, baby.” He even spoke so gently to her. He just always seemed so rough, looked so hardened and pissed off all the time.
    “I’ve wanted you for quite some time, months in fact.”
    He lifted a dark eyebrow