Page 96 of Passing Ships

She does as I ask and buries her face in my neck.

“When Avie’s mother announced you had an Allen coming, I almost lost my fucking mind,” I tell her.

“And I saw red when Jenna was rubbing her assets all over you,” she whimpers.

I nip at her bottom lip.

“She’s just a girl. I don’t want a girl. I want you, and I don’t want an Allen touching you. And I don’t like this feeling,” I declare.

Her head falls to my shoulder as I tease her clit.

“It’s because we don’t trust each other. It shouldn’t be this intense, this fast between us,” she rasps.

Maybe not. But it’s been this intense since the first time I touched her.

“Don’t come on my dress or rip it any further,” she says, and I grin.

“Now, you’re just taking away all my fun,” I murmur into her hair. “And you’ll be the only one coming. Try not to make a mess.”

I circle the sensitive bud a few times before guiding my finger through her damp folds and plunging it into her. I pump it in and out slowly, and she arches her back. Then, I add a second finger and hook them as I twist and reach for that sweet spot that makes her squirm.

I’ve learned her body so well in the past few weeks, and I know exactly what she needs to fall apart.

Her hips begin to thrust against my hand as I work my fingers in and out.

“Do you want a third finger, baby?” I ask, and she moans against my throat in answer.

I do as she requests, and her body jerks.

My fingers play her like an instrument and work her into a fever pitch in no time.

“That’s it, Legs. Come on my hand,” I demand when she starts to writhe and ride my fingers as I caress and stretch her.

Her legs begin to tremble, and her muscles flutter.

“Oh God, Lennon,” she sobs into my neck.

“I’ve got you. Just let go,” I murmur.

And that’s when I hear it.

Milly Harraway’s muffled voice floats under the door. I still as I listen closely.

“Don’t stop,” Amiya groans as I remove my hand.

“Sorry, baby, but the sound of my mother’s voice is like a douse of ice-cold water,” I state.

She growls as I shush her and kiss the tip of her nose.

“But don’t you feel better?” I ask.

“A little, but I know what could make me feel a lot better,” she says as she runs her hand down my chest and to the front of my slacks, and then her eyes snap to mine. “Wait, did you say your mom? Shit!”

She pulls down her dress and slides down from the ledge. Then, she bangs on the door and screams for help, and I join her.

“When this wedding is over, you’re riding my cock. I want to watch you unravel while I’m buried deep inside you,” I say in her ear.

We continue pounding on the door as we yell in unison.

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