Page 14 of The Gangster's Girl
“Perfect words form a perfect mouth said by a perfect girl,” he purrs, making me blush and I squirm from the intense look in his eyes. I try to turn around to continue with the waffles but he grabs me around the waist and puts me down on the kitchen island.
“I’m trying to get breakfast ready,” I stutter but Clay doesn’t seem to care about what I have in mind right now. He seems more interested in what he has in mind.
“I don’t want breakfast.” His eyes flash. “I want you.” He slides his hands up my thighs, squeezing the flesh until I go numb with lust. “I want these,” he groans, before licking his lips. “And I want what’s between them even more.”
“B...but you said we couldn’t...”
“That was before I saw another male around you.” Dark need colors his eyes. “I hunger for you beyond a normal appetite, darlin.”
I gasp when he pushes my legs apart, ripping my undies and I cry out when his mouth’s suddenly on me. He’s relentless, kissing me with a fervor that causes me to come with a force I didn’t think I had in me.
“You make me happier than someone like me has the capacity for,” he groans, the sound rumbling low in his chest and I feel as if I’ve just given birth to the world for this man. Tears push behind my eyes. Not because I’m sad but because I never knew someone could want me this much. Clay’s lids flutter. “I can tell there’s more to life by just looking at you face.”
“Clay...,” I whimper and our mouths clash, our tongues twisting and the kiss bruises and peels off any resistance between us. I’m scared of getting pregnant but right now I don’t care. I need to be close to him, feel his skin pressed against mine and when he yanks me to his chest, I cry out.
The heat between us burns. It sizzles and makes me feel heady and drunk.
I love him.
Not superficially but with trust and innocence because I know he will never hurt me. And when I tug at his sweatpants, he doesn’t stop me.
****
Clay
She’s so small. I’ve never fully realized how small she is until now. She’s my daintiest prize and I finally have her to myself. The thought makes my head spin and I pull her dress down, my eyes latching on to the yellow bra she’s wearing. The cups are sheer, causing her nipples to peak out like peachy little suns and I flick my thump over them, extracting a lusty moan from her.
India tosses her head back, a distressed look on her face as if she doesn’t know where this is going. And how could she. She’s never done this before. “I’ll be gentle,” I murmur and she nods but I curse myself when I squeeze her tits in my greedy palms and India winces. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” she whimpers, looking like a hot little mess as she sits there with her legs dangling. My eyes flare to hers.
“Why?”
“Because you’re perfect. You can’t do anything wrong.” A look that can only be described as borderline worship flashes on her face. “Everything you do is good and right.”
Isn’t that a lie but that’s what she’s been brought up to think.Look at your Uncle Clay, he’s a good man. Find a husband like your Uncle Clay when you’re older, he won’t ever disappoint you. Her family practically brainwashed her about me, coating me in icing sugar and spice and everything nice until I must’ve looked like a fucking fairy in India’s eyes. And judging by the glitter in her eyes, I know I must be right.
She’s not scared of me. Not one bit. She probably would be if she knew the whole truth.
But I would rather have her hate me than be afraid or me. Not that I’ll ever do anything that would make her hate me and I wouldn’t do anything that would make her fear me either, which is why I plan on being insanely careful with her.
“I’m going to need you to hold on to me,” I say, boring my eyes into hers and she gets a look that’s a mix of hesitation and trust. She’ll follow me anywhere. To the highest mountain, the deepest waters, the darkest forests and her arms go around my neck. I push her to me, making sure her face stays buried in my neck before checking to see if she’s ready.
She’s soaked, liquid dripping straight from the source and I groan when she squirms.
“I like how your skin smells,” she whispers, giving me a lick and I cry out, entering her in one, slow move and she squeals, her body going rigid. “Is it supposed to feel like I’m about to rupture?” she asks frantically, breathing as if she’s about to hyperventilate.
Yeah,” I grunt.
India clings to me, squirming when I push farther and I yank her face to me, feasting on her and feeling her out until I’ll be able to memorize her from within. Know how the walls of the inside of her mouth feel, how soft the tip of her tongue is and she moves with a heat that blows my mind.
Her hips buck when I suck on her neck and ripples move through my body and I grind against her. She moans in delirium, squeezing around me as I stretch her and I put my hand between us, flicking her clit and she bounces.
The pulse in her pussy is maddening and I grit my teeth, rolling into her the way a wave rolls over a defenseless shore and she trembles, allowing me to wet her, to change her colors, to go from light to dark and the mud created between water and sand is the glue in the middle of us.
“Push back at me,” I groan, cupping her hips and I help her, showing her how to use her body to get as much pleasure as possible out of this and her eyes flare. Inwardly I grin, loving that she’s loving it. “That’s it,” I grunt, nodding my head in encouragement but regret it the moment something inside of her snaps and she begins bucking as if this is the fucking wild, wild west.
“India...,” I warn, not knowing whether to just clamp my hands down on her to get her to stop or just shut up.