Angel of Redemption Read Online Free PDF Page A

awhile since I ’ ve been touched like this.
    I
want her to suck it — to suck me — but I ’ m already about to blow, and I don ’ t want to do it in her mouth. Not yet.
Maybe later. Definitely later. Her fingertips dance over the head, which is
leaking in anticipation. I hiss as her tongue darts out to collect a taste.
    I
cup her chin, and she looks up at me. God, she ’ s beautiful. When she lies back down
on the bed, I cover her with my body. I ’ m already in position, but I want her to feel the heat of
me on top of her. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I can feel the tips
of those pumps digging into my ass. It hurts, but in a good way. A way that
says I ’ m about to fuck this girl six ways
from Sunday.
    I
reach down, making sure things are nice and wet so I don ’ t hurt her. I want to do this again.
And again. And again. Glancing at her face, I see that she ’ s not looking at me; she ’ s looking down to where I ’ m slowly entering her. I watch, too.
    Looking
back up at her to make sure she ’ s okay, I see her cheeks are tinged pink, her lips slightly
parted. I ’ m
not really moving anymore, because I ’ m all the way in, and I don ’ t want to leave.
    She
begins to move beneath me, making sexy little sounds — gasps, whimpers. They aren ’ t
words, but I know what they ’ re asking me for. I pull out almost all the way. I can feel
her walls clenching, trying to force me to stay.
    Making
short, quick thrusts, I give her just enough of my tip to drive her crazy. I
could probably come like this, but not this time. After a few minutes of pure
erotic torture, I finally give in to my urge and just drive into her. She cries
out, her hands flying to my shoulders, nails digging into my flesh.
    I
unwrap one of her legs from around me and push it up. Gripping her calf with my
fingers, I drag my tongue over the smooth muscle. She ’ s flexible. That ’ s a good thing. One of the red fuck-me
pumps is in my line of vision as I move inside her. I ’ m gonna fucking steal those shoes and
make her wear them every single time.
    “ Good God, woman, you feel incredible, ” I groan as I thrust into her over and over. I want her to
talk to me — to say nasty, filthy things. But she ’ s just staring at me.
    “ Talk to me, sweetheart. I need to hear
you, ” I plead. But she says nothing. I ’ m gonna come, I know I am, but I want
her to get there first. “ Baby, please. ”
    “ You don ’ t want to hear what I have to say, ” she moans.
    “ I do. I want to fucking hear you. ”
    “ Are you sure? ” she purrs.
    “ Yes, baby, anything. ”
    She
looks at me coyly and bites her lip.
    I
can ’ t
hold back. “ Kayla, please, something. ”
    She
lifts her lips to my ear and whispers, “ Wake
up. ”
    “ Oh, shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck. ” I ’ m gasping for air as I come all over the inside of my
jeans. I ’ m
on my stomach, in my bed. Alone.
    I fucking hate my life sometimes.
     
    * * *
     
    “ Dude,
Dean. Why are you so pissy this morning? I swear you need to get laid, ” Jax, one of our boys, says as I toss my plate down onto the
table in a huff.
    He ’ s right. I ’ m being a total bitch, but I can ’ t help myself, not after the most
erotic experience in my existence turned out to be a fucking dream. And he ’ s unknowingly emphasized that point. I
spent an hour trying to pound my frustration out on the heavy punching bag in
the basement before breakfast, but it didn ’ t work.
    “ Jax, ” I warn.
    “ Aww, come on. Seriously, man, how long ’ s it been? ”
    All
the boys perk up as if I ’ m really going to give them that piece of information.
Truthfully, it ’ s
been too fucking long. I can ’ t very well bring a woman to Wyatt House. I have my
apartment, but there ’ s no way I ’ m about to show a chick wh o’ll fuck me twenty minutes after meeting
me where I really live. I don ’ t go home with girls, either. They
expect too much. I don ’ t do all that cuddly bullshit.