Bending the Rules (The Rules, #1)

Bonus Chapter #5: Mess Me Up

The orgasm shatters me. 

My back arches and my thighs clench around his head while I buck my hips. His name spills from my lips, along with a string of curses. Every muscle in my body is fragile with tension while my mind tries to catch up.

And when it does, when I'm recovering in the afterglow, Shea picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. My body is too lax to function properly, which is why he wraps me in a tight embrace. He strokes my hair as we stand in the middle of the dim hallway. My forehead rests against his shoulder while I try to regain control of my breathing. Find my mind again; it's stuck in an endless cycle of bliss. And despite the amazing orgasm, I want more. Call me greedy, but the night isn't ending here. No way. There's more on the docket.

"How are you holding up, Harrison?" he jokes.

Chuckling, I kiss his neck. Goosebumps flitter across his skin, encouraging me to continue.

I bite his ear lobe, tugging at it. "I want you to fuck me. Against the wall. In the shower. Beneath the sheets. On the kitchen counter. Every. Available. Surface."

His face splits into a grin, and he carries me up the stairs to our bedroom.

When he pushes our door open, we're greeted with a cool blast of spring air. It smells like ocean, pine, and laundry detergent. The white curtains billow with the breeze, and moonlight streams through, patterning the hardwood floor.

With nothing but the moonlight to guide us, Shea lays me down on the bed. The sheets are crisp and cool against my skin, and before Shea climbs atop me, I prop myself up on my elbows and remove my strapless bra. I toss it to the floor, not caring where it ends up.

Shea pauses at the foot of the bed, swallowing as his eyes devour the view before him. He runs a hand through his hair, then removes his belt. The sound of hitting the floor sets me on edge. The anticipation is unbearable, and several dirty thoughts fill my mind. There are so many things I want him to do to me. Things I want to do to him.

He undoes his dress pants. They fall to the floor, revealing muscular thighs and a sharp V running diagonally from his hip bone to his pelvic region. Lower, I can see the outline of his erection through his cotton boxer briefs.

I swallow, remembering the night of the draft. The night we fucked in his hotel room in Los Angeles. After he literally ripped my dress off, and when I was worried he wouldn't fit.

I groan, rubbing my flushed cheeks while I recall that night. The emotions I felt, and the delicious memory of my body adapting to his size. There was little pain, just pressure and inexperienced tension. And when my body adapted... pure bliss.

Shea shrugs off his dress shirt, and then removes his boxers, leaving him wearing nothing but his tie.

My self-control snaps. Leaning forward, I grab his tie and pull him down to the bed. We're a tumbling mess as our lips meet. His mouth captures mine, and it's clear who's dominating. He's in complete control, seducing me with powerful strokes of his tongue and kisses that bruise my lips. Every movement he makes is precise.

After years of practice, he knows my design. My likes and dislikes.

Just like I know his. Like I know him.

My hand slides between us, and I grip his erection, stroking him a few times.

Shea breaks the kiss. His breathing is heavy. "Fuck, Bren. Keep your hands to yourself. I won't last long if you keep doing that. Your hands are dangerous."

I stroke him again. "This?"

He chokes on a breath. "Yes. That."

I repeat the motion, nipping at his bottom lip.