So Wrong (Boys of South Chapel, #1)

by Abby Millsaps

When he finally pushes in, I exhale. “Fuck. You’re so warm, baby. So fucking tight.” My inner walls involuntarily flutter. Greedy moans in my ear. “Fuck, baby. Do that again. Squeeze around my finger and let me feel you.” I give a tentative clench, and moisture trickles from my entrance. His words and the feel of him have me so ramped up, I’m half convinced I’m floating right now. “Do it again.” With a groan, I obey. This time he thrusts up as I do it. He must hit some sort of internal nerve, because my whole body jolts in his lap, and a surge of moisture coats his hand. “Good girl. Just like that,” he encourages. “Good fucking girl.” Of its own accord, my pussy clamps around his hand. It’s so tight it aches. It’s the good kind of ache—a sensation that blossoms and grows with each stroke of his fingers against my inner walls. “Imagine that’s my cock inside you,” he growls in my ear. The moan that escapes me is so loud that the second it’s out of my mouth, we both freeze. We’re getting carried away. Way, way, away. I’ve never done anything intimate like this in public before. As desperate as I am to share everything with Greedy, I’d prefer to do it without an audience. For a long moment, we sit silently, silently surveying our friends across the way. Thankfully, no one has even looked our way. “Baby, we have to stop,” Greedy grits out into my hair. “If you moan like that again, I’m going to come in my pants.” I giggle, then I nearly snort, too. “You think that’s funny?” he ...