Free Baddest Bad Boys by Shannon McKenna, Cate Noble, E. C. Sheedy Page B

face. The look in his eyes was so unguarded, it hurt her heart. Tears welled up. She wiped them away, smiled shakily. The knot in her throat shriveled up all possibility of speech.

    Her feelings for him were plastered all over her face, like posters on a billboard. He’d said, virgins always fall in love with you when you fuck them, if you do it right. Well, he’d done it right, by God. She would never be the same again. And she thought she had it bad before.

    Her girlish imaginings had been pale and thin compared to the lusty reality of his big body against hers, his huge penis, his rampaging sexual style. She was starting to squirm just thinking about it.

    Her face was getting hot, but she couldn’t look away. He looked like he was silently asking for something, but the plea was locked inside him, behind thick soundproof walls, clamoring to get out.

    But she could hear him, loud and clear. From inside her heart.

    She snuggled closer to him, until their noses almost touched, and lost herself in those bright eyes, the black curling eyelashes. His beard had grown out to a sexy, stubbly shadow that brought into focus the sculpted planes and angles of his jaw. That mouth, that knew no limits.

    So close to hers. It happened slowly, so gradually, with no clear act of volition on anyone’s part, a seamless, inevitable melding. One minute they were gazing, the next, they were kissing as if they’d always been kissing, as if they would never be able to stop.

    The sweetest, loveliest kiss. She was a flower opening, aching to give him all the nectar she had, with perfect trust. Their lips met, explored, nibbled and plucked and stroked. His tongue touched hers, and molten delight shot down, shimmering in her nipples, blooming between her thighs, making her knees tingle, her toes curl.

    He put his hand between her legs, slipping his fingers inside, and his low growl vibrated through her body when he found her wet.

    One dizzy, disoriented movement, and he’d rolled heavily on top of her, shoving her legs wide. He lodged himself against her, and started squeezing that big, rock-hard phallus into her body. She was still sore from last night’s adventures, yet the whimpers that jerked out of her with each deep shove were cries of pleasure.

    He stopped when he was as deep as he could go. She could feel his heartbeat, throbbing inside her at the mouth of her womb, pressing all those lovely areas that just loved to be pressed.

    “Am I hurting you?” he asked.

    She let out a crack of breathless laughter, and dug her nails into his chest. “Oh, sure. Ask me now, why don’t you, when you’re so deep inside me, you’re practically coming out my mouth.”

    He swiveled his hips, making her gasp and rock against him.

    “You know how it is. Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. But you didn’t answer my question.”

    “Don’t stop.” She wiggled madly against him. “I like it.”

    “Answer my question.” He froze into place, his eyes steely.

    She let out a sharp sigh. “I didn’t answer it because it’s a dumb question. Sure, it hurts. I don’t care. So stop bothering me.”

    “I could stop,” he said. “If you’re too—”

    “Shut. Up.” She shook him, wiggling her hips to get him going.

    “I’ll be gentle,” he promised.

    “Not on my account,” she snapped, but the rest of her lecture was lost when he cupped the back of her head and started kissing again.

    It was different this time. He was gentler, much gentler. Last night had a desperate, urgent, life-or-death quality. This morning, the movement of his body was playful, voluptuous. A slow thrust and glide, no hurry. A seeking, swirling, skillful pulse that teased and beckoned, that drove her half mad with rising desire with each slick stroke.

    She squeezed her eyes shut, clutched his shoulders and raised herself to meet each lunge. The shimmering tension was rising, about to crest, but something tugged at her mind, distracting