My heart thumps in my chest. "But the redhead..."
"I don't know her. She walked in and stripped off her clothes." He leans in close and kisses me, barely brushing my lips with his, the movement light as a feather.
I push him back, unable to contain my laugh. "Women don't just walk in a room and take off their clothes."
"They do for me."
"I'm a celebrity," he says. "It's not the first time."
"And it won't be the last, either." I'm irritated with him again. I'm irritated with the idea that women walk into a room and throw themselves at him. I'm irritated with the fact that the insistent throbbing between my legs is making me stupid. It's making me want to lose my mind and beg him to bury his cock inside me.
"I like this jealous streak," he says. "It's adorable."
"I'm not jealous," I insist, lying, to him or myself, I'm not sure which. "I'm making sure you're not riddled with STDs."
"Jealous," he says, his mouth close to mine. He licks my lower lip with the tip of his tongue, and I inhale sharply, my thoughts clouded by lust.
"You're the jealous one. You were jealous when you saw me outside with Chase."
He grabs a handful of hair at the base of my neck and pulls me to him, covering my mouth with his. A twinge of pain shoots through me as he presses his mouth hard against my mouth, his tongue warring with mine. My body is on fire, and I long for him to run his hands over my skin. I long to feel him inside me.
When he finally pulls away, he keeps a firm grasp on my hair, holding my head steady so I can't help but look at him. "You're damn right I was jealous," he says. "Don't even think about talking to him again."
"Says the guy who had a naked girl in the library. That's ironic."
"I didn't touch her. I threw her out," he says. "She was repulsive."
"She was hot. And you could have touched her," I say. "You and I aren't anything."
"That lacrosse player doesn't lay a finger on you," he says. "You belong to me."
"What the hell is this, Caulter?" I ask. "You're the one who says you're just having a little fun. You're nobody's happy ever after, remember?"
He grips my hair harder, pulls me against him, his hardness pressing into my thigh. "And you're not some frail little princess who needs swept off her feet," he says, running his hand up the side of my leg and cupping my ass, the tips of his fingers touching my pussy lips. I'm wet, practically dripping, and when he realizes it, he pulls me against him, crushing my mouth with his again.
"Then what am I?" I ask, when I come up for air.
"You're the most irritating girl I've ever met," he says, his grip still tight on my hair. He covers my breast with his hand, warm through the fabric of the dress, and my nipples harden immediately to his touch.
"And you're the --"
"You don't ever stop interrupting," he says.
I laugh. "You're a caveman, with your --"
He squeezes my breast hard, sending a jolt of pain through my body. "Keep talking, and I'll give you something to put in your mouth."
I can't help it; Caulter has done something to me. He flipped a switch in me the first time he had me. That was really the night he claimed me.
The thought of his hand on my hair, forcing his cock inside my mouth, makes my legs quiver. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"
"Test me, Princess. Go ahead and see if I'm making idle threats."
"So go on," I say, dropping to my knees on the floor. "Tell me what I am, again." I unbuckle his pants and take his massive cock in my hand.
Caulter groans. "You're the most stuck-up -"
Wrapping my hand around the base of his cock, I lick him, base to tip, the pre-cum salty on my tongue. I slide my lips over his head slowly, savoring everything about him...his taste, his scent, the way he moans under his breath, the sound guttural, deep in his throat. Then I pause, looking up at him. "And you're an asshole."
"Goody-goody," he says, grabbing a handful of my hair.
"Dickhead." I let out a moan when he muffles the word by pulling my head forcefully onto his cock, yanking my hair at the roots. I wrap my lips around him as he pushes his way further and further into my mouth.
"Prim and proper, straight-laced little virgin," he says, as I relax my throat, taking him in as far as I can, the irony of his words not lost on me. I cup his balls with one hand and he groans, pulling my head back and forth along his length, refusing to let me be the one in control. It's a few minutes before his grip on me loosens and he lets me go. I pull away from his cock, wrapping my hand around his base and sliding it up and down his length, his skin lubricated by a mix of our fluids. He warns me, his tone gruff. "You had better put your mouth back."