Page 23 of David's Chase

Who knows what will happen in a week? Or the following week? Or the next?

So, without wasting another moment, I bring my hand to his.

He stays silent when I take his hand and walk out with him, leading him to the bedroom.

I only have time to tuck a pillow against the headboard before I turn around, and he’s already peeling off his suit jacket and unbuckling his belt.

Without further talking, we know exactly what we’re doing.

He lies down and presses his back into the pillow, undoing his shirt and pulling it out of his pants while I work his fly open and slide onto the bed, knees between his legs, head down, the tip of his erection pushing against my mouth.

My hand is locked into a tight fist around his hard–on as my tongue swirls around the chiseled head.

A soft moan leaves his lips, and looking up, I notice that his eyes are closed and he is fully relaxed.

His fingers thread through my hair while I push my mouth down and suck on him.

My mouth waters, my wet arousal dripping, and we don’t need much to physically connect again.

There’s no need for him to enter me and for me to shudder around him so we can fully enjoy this.

I wish things weren’t that obvious, but whatever we had planned to do turned into this.

I’m addicted to him, and he’s addicted to me, and the foreplay obviously happened in the bathroom.

And possibly in our heads before he snuck into my house and almost gave me a heart attack.

We are nuts.

His other hand comes to the back of my head while my lips and tongue roll down his flesh, and the warmth and wetness of my mouth make him turn to steel.

I flick my head up and look at him with unfocused eyes when he nudges my legs open, and I straddle him.

He holds his erection up while I slide down and rock my hips, filled to the brim.

His muscular arms drape around me, his hot breaths rolling over my lips as he pulls upright to be closer.

Running my fingers down, I trail his shoulders and stroke his pecs, leaving marks on his skin.

The more I rock my body against his, the closer I get to the peak of pleasure. And when he smoothly runs his hand over my butt, reaches between my legs, and strokes me from behind, a new layer of my pleasure falls over me.

“I’m getting close,” I say, and he grabs me hard, rolls me over, tops me quickly, and drives himself into me, picking up the pace and using so much force I come within seconds.

For a few long moments, my bliss gets pierced by his hard, fast thrusts and short breaths as his clipped grunts become music to my ears.

4

LIZ

In the afternoon

“Ready?”my mother asks, sliding a jacket on and giving me a quick once over.

I look plain.

I try to look plain.

My hair is pulled into a loose bun at the top of my head, my lashes coated with brown mascara, a faint shade of pink on my lips.

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