The Twist in her Fairytale by Skylar Kay

Author:Skylar Kay [Kay, Skylar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Sienna couldn’t find meaning in his words. He wanted her to do something, something that lurked beyond her capabilities. She cupped his cheek, his jaw strong, tense in her palm. What did he want? How could she think when her body gave up their standing rights to lean against Matthew and do nothing but register the feeling of his lips and hands?

“Do it, Sienna. Tell me to stop.” Frustration rang in his voice. The harsh plea in his eyes mirrored the thousands of reasons he shouldn’t touch her. A momentary spark of panic flitted through her that he would stop on his own. Then why was one hand tangled in her hair, his other so close to the molten heat between her legs and the hardness of his erection, heavy and purposeful against her? Why couldn’t he stop himself?

Because he can’t.

And neither can I.

Not one solid motive persuaded her otherwise. She abandoned everything in her life for this one moment.

“Touch me, please, Matthew.” She kissed his lips, his jaw, his chin, and down to his collarbone where she licked at his skin.

At his indrawn breath, she slid her hand between their bodies, into his unbuttoned jeans, and inside. She sighed as his hot, velvety hardness twitched against her fingers. She’d never touched a man this way before, hadn’t known what the pure wonder of carrying such masculinity in her palm could do to her sex. She ran her fingers over his vein-ridden shaft, to the damp head. Oh, God. She writhed her hips, desperate for him to touch her, too.

Before her next frayed exhalation left her mouth, he pinned both her wrists above her head, against the door. He swore, his whole body rigid for enough seconds to make her panic return. Even though he imprisoned her, she defied him. Nothing would send her away. The instant he released her; she would just touch him again. She needed him. She raised her face to his, close enough to taste his breath, determined to catch his lips. Not hampered when he avoided her.

With his head lowered, his eyes seemed fixed on her heaving breasts. The bow in the middle of her chest had come undone, the bodice loose, separated in half to reveal the sparse cups of the matching red bra she wore. His dark brows knotted at the center of his forehead. She melted under the feverish glow of his gaze. Bliss spread through her as somehow her breasts had managed to distract him from asking her to leave or insisting, she stop him. She’d give him her whole soul, anything he wanted, if he just let her stay.

She rubbed herself against him, gyrating her hips like a belly dancer, all in the confined space of what he allowed. The concrete hardness of his erection became the welcomed weight of a pillar against her abdomen. She loved the bulkiness between his legs. So new, so exotic, so strong. So Matthew. She knew her inexperienced but instinctive movements affected him. Every sway caused her breasts to quiver; the bra, for pretty-sake, offered no support.

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