Insidious
Page 105

 Aleatha Romig

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My insides twisted as I listened to his deep voice.
“That’s what I want. What do you want?” he asked.
I couldn’t talk. I didn’t know what to say; instead, I lifted my lips toward his.
“No, Victoria, I want words. I want hands. I want you to be with me one hundred percent. No fucking nodding, or doing as you’re told. Show me the bitch with a brain who’s gotten under my fucking skin like no one else.”
I held my head still, looked into his dark eyes, and said, “I want you to kiss me. After that, I don’t know.”
With the light from the rising sun, I saw his lopsided grin. “I’ll take that. I’ll fucking take that. I want more, but I’ll take that.”
With one large hand on my cheek, our lips met and the fire I questioned roared to life. The twisting I’d felt earlier turned painful as moans came from somewhere deep inside of me. Inch by inch he pushed closer, his massive chest covering mine, smashing my suddenly sensitive breasts. Slowly my hands moved up his shoulders, touching what I’d never imagined feeling. He was so big, so much bigger than anyone I’d ever known: tall, muscular, and strong. My body dwarfed beneath his. With each passing second I longed to touch the skin below his shirt.
“Travis?”
“Yes?”
“Will you take off your shirt?”
“Fuck yeah,” he said, and his shirt flew over his head.
The chest I’d admired from afar was directly in front of me, solid and perfect. I traced the defined muscles with the tips of my fingers as a masculine-scented cologne, one that was neither heavy nor ghostly familiar, filled the suite. When I realized I was ogling, I bit my lip and bashfully raised my gray eyes to his. “I’ve never seen you. You’ve seen me, but I’ve never seen you.”
His lopsided grin morphed into a full smile. “Do you like what you see as much as I do?”
“I do.”
“So do I.” He leaned back and scanned my body from my waist to my eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
I raised a brow.
His tone was velvet. “Oh, you’ve always been fucking hot, but this is different. This is you, all you.” He teased the neckline of my blouse. “I want to see more, more of you. Will you let me see more? Just me, no one else?”
I nodded, knowing that once I removed my blouse, he’d see my hard nipples. He’d know what his words were doing to me.
“No, Victoria. Remember, no more nodding.”
“I remember,” I said, as I lifted my blouse from over my head.
“I tasted those luscious lips. Now I want to taste your perfect tits.”
I reached up and cupped his cheeks. “You’re fucking killing me. I’m using my words. I want you to taste me, and I want to taste you. Now shut the fuck up and do it.”
His smile grew before my eyes, radiating from his whole expression: from his firm lips to his dark, gleaming eyes. “There’s my bossy bitch,” he quipped before his lips seized one nipple and then the other.
I threw my head backward as my spine arched and goose bumps appeared. Whimpers came from my lips as my insides clenched. After nibbling each pebbled nipple, Travis’s large hands caressed each breast while his thumb massaged, the combination created an excruciating need deep inside. Each time he sucked or tweaked my hardened nubs, electricity surged through me, straight to my core. Without getting near my sex, his words and actions made my panties wet as I unconsciously rolled my hips, silently begging for more.
When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he found the waistband of the only remaining obstacle. Reverently, he pulled my panties down over my hips and down my legs, moving down my body as he did. “You smell so fucking good.” He looked up, his gaze settling on mine. “This is your last chance, Mrs. Harrington. If you don’t tell me to stop now, I’m not stopping until I’m satisfied.” His warm breath teased my inner thigh. “And I’ve fucking wanted this for ten years. I’m not rushing.”
He wasn’t rushing, nor was he the man from long ago in the warehouse. This monster of a man between my thighs was worshipping every inch and taking an agonizing amount of time to lavish me with reverent attention. I wove my fingers through his fine, dark hair. “My fucking name is Victoria! And I don’t want you to fucking rush. What I want is for you to take me slow and hard. Make me come and do it again.”
His lips quirked. “Bossy!”
“Oh God!” I moaned as one and then two fingers plunged deep inside of me.
“You’re so wet, so ready.” In and out his fingers plunged. He lifted my hips, creating a rhythm that sent my body into spasms. “Oh fuck!” My mountain was right there, both literally and figuratively. I had never realized that Travis was my mountain, my high.
Kissing the inside of my thighs, his fingers disappeared. I watched as he sat up, his eyes never leaving mine as he removed his gym shorts and revealed his giant cock. “Fucking hard?” he asked, as he stroked himself. “You want it hard? I’ve got it hard.”
Holy shit! He did! I reached out to touch it.
“Not yet, Victoria, not yet. I still have pussy to eat. Remember, I’m taking this slow.”
Oh my God!
I laid my head back and spread my legs wider. “I remember,” I uttered through labored breaths as his tongue found my now swollen lips and lapped my wetness. When I reached for the soft sheets, he sucked my clit. The room around us dimmed as nothing mattered but his actions. Each tug on my hypersensitive bundle of nerves pulled me higher and higher. I was in a dark tunnel, a vacuum, and only Travis could pull me out, toward the light and toward my figurative mountain’s peak.