Free Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance by Tabatha Kiss Page B

scaling the walls between myself and climax.
    Boxcar grips my waist and pulls me closer to him to guide his hard, purposeful thrusts. After all this time, he still knows how to hold me and exactly where to touch me to control the fire inside of me. What Boxcar lacks in life, he more than makes up for in his bed. He’s the type of lover that studies his woman and takes his time on her, never once batting an impatient eye as she enjoys herself beneath him.
    Some things never change.
    He grips me harder and takes me into his strong arms to slide me off the counter. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, refusing to let him slide out of me for even a second as he carries me across the room and lowers us both down onto my bed. He pins me against the mattress and fucks me, reminding me that I’m his woman and no one else’s. He fucks me like a man should fuck his wife.
    I push his jacket off his shoulders, craving to feel even more of his smooth skin. He leans up and slides it off his arms, tossing it to the floor as I reach for his shirt. It ruffles his hair as he jerks it off his head and I chuckle softly to myself as he tries to fix it. I put my hands on his body, drawing his attentions back and luring him down to my lips again. He pushes deeper inside as he lowers down and I moan against his mouth, urging him to keep fucking me but he holds himself steady instead.
    Boxcar lays his hands on me, fishing them beneath my shirt. His fingers crawl upward to caress my breasts and feel my nipples as they poke his palms. He takes his time sliding my shirt up, re-learning every gentle curve of me, every freckle and spot on my skin. I twitch with impatience, knowing that the pleasure gently tapping on my walls is just the beginning of what he’s capable of doing to me.
    He pulls back and his cock falls out of me. I grit my teeth in disappointment but that feeling fades as Boxcar’s mouth descends down my neck and over my breasts. His tongue travels my navel, leaving wet kisses along my taut skin all the way down to my heaving mound. He pushes my knees farther apart, straining my muscles until they hurt. My back arches. My toes curl. My entire body submits as his warm breath rakes across my folds and his lips clamp around my surging clit.
    I moan towards the ceiling. Quick, constant breaths keep me light-headed and weak, completely unable to process the supreme pleasure dominating me from the inside out. His tongue laps at me, zeroing in on the most sensitive spot. He stares up at me with purposeful eyes, locking on mine as I writhe beneath him.
    Boxcar lays a firm finger against my opening and I breathe a deep sigh. I’m not even sure how much more of this I can take before I’m screaming his name and I know exactly what he can do with those strong, trained fingers of his. I look into his eyes again, seeing the impish delight in his pupils as he slides a single finger inside and waits for my moans to subside before playing me with expert precision. Flawless and true, he massages a thunderous climax out of me, refusing to stop his gentle rub even as my muscles clamp down on his hand.
    “Box!” I scream, barely able to catch my breath as he slides a second finger inside and fucks me hard and fast with both fingers. He keeps his hand working as he travels upward, leaving hot, eager kisses along my flesh before finally finding my lips again. I ache for more of him, especially the wide, thickness of his cock. I reach for it and grip it with my fingers, wrapping around it and squeezing hard with the softening waves of climax still tingling my insides.
    Boxcar laughs and slides his fingers out of me, reading my expression like a book he’s read a thousand times. He knows what I want. He knows how I want it and where. He always did and he always will.
    He grabs me and guides me around onto my hands and knees. I feel him press against me, hard and firm as ever, before he burrows his cock back inside of me where he belongs. With one hand