Chapter 144 (1/2)

Tessa closes the remaining distance between us, and my somewhat shy—yet very fucking dirty—girl is looking at me, expecting a reply as her hand moves to my shoulder and pushes me back just enough for her to climb onto my lap.

Fuck this. I don’t give a shit about some stupid fucking dream or our stupid fucking rule about distance. All I want is her and me, me and her: Tessa and the mess that is fucking Hardin.

Her lips find their way to my neck, and my fingertips press into her hips. No matter how many times I imagined it throughout the week, no fantasy will ever compare to her tongue skimming across my damp collarbone and up to that fucking spot just under my ear.

“Lock the door,” I instruct as her teeth softly sink into my skin and she grinds her hips down against me. I’m rock fucking hard against her ridiculous fluffy fucking pants, and I need her now.

I ignore the aching throb between my legs as she climbs off me and hurries across the room to do as I said. I don’t waste a goddamn second when she returns. Her pants are pushed down her thighs, and her black panties follow, pooling around her ankles on the padded floor.

“I’ve been tortured all week, thinking about how you look when you’re like this,” I groan, my eyes drinking in every fucking detail of her half-naked body. “So beautiful,” I say with awe.

When she pulls her T-shirt over her head, I can’t help but lean forward and kiss the curve of her wide hips. A slow shiver rakes through her, and she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra.

Holy fuck. Out of all the times I have made love to her, I can’t remember ever feeling this feverish. Even the times when she woke me up by wrapping her mouth around my cock, I never felt this fucking animalistic.

I reach for her, taking one of her breasts into my mouth and one in my hand. Her hands move to my shoulders to keep her steady as I pucker my lips around her soft skin.

“Oh God,” she moans, her nails digging into my shoulder, and I suck harder. “Lower, please.”

She attempts to guide my head down with a gentle push, so I use my teeth against her, to tease her. I run my fingertips along the underside of both of her breasts, slow and torturous . . . this is what she gets for being so fucking tempting and teasing.

Her hips move forward, and I slide my body down slightly so that my mouth is at the perfect height to press against the swollen bud of nerve endings between her thighs. With a soft moan, she encourages me to go further, and my lips wrap around her, sucking and savoring the wetness already gathered there. She’s so warm and so fucking sweet.

“Your fingers haven’t quite satisfied you, have they?” I pull away to ask her. She breathes a deep breath, her blue-gray eyes watching me as I tilt my head and run my tongue along her pubic bone.

“Don’t tease me,” she whines, tugging at my hair again.

“Did you touch yourself off again this week, after our chat on the phone?” I taunt her. She squirms and gasps when my tongue lands exactly where she wants it.

“No.”

“You’re lying.” I call her out. I can tell by the redness creeping from her neckline to her cheeks and the way her eyes flicker away to the mirrored wall that she’s not telling the truth. She has gotten herself off since our time on the phone . . . and the thought of her lying there, her legs spread open, her fingers moving over herself, her finding such pleasure from what I taught her . . . it makes me groan against her hot skin.