Page 53 of Unexpected Temptation

I text instead of knocking on the door. She replies,I’m coming out.

She’s in yoga pants and a hoodie when she comes out. It’s like she wants to get as far away as possible from her outfit earlier, with those tempting shorts and that thin tank top that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

I need to focus. Stepping forward, I take her hand. I don’t mean to, but everything with her is so much more natural than it should be. Not like I can take the time to give a damn.

“Are you okay?”

I pull her into my arms when she nods, making a softhmmnoise, but I can tell she’s not okay. She collapses against me, pressing her face against my chest. When she begins to cry, I hold her, hating the way her whole body trembles like her world is falling apart.

“You’re right,” she moans. “She needs a home. I can’t keep her here. The stress, the fear …”

“You need to sit down,” I say softly, wanting to take her inside and hold her, but I can’t help thinking of what’s under my backseat. The longer I leave it there, the more risk there is.

She makes another heart-wrenching noise. I’d have to be some monster not to lead her into the house gently. I take her into the living room and sit her on the couch. Then, I sit next to her. It’s like the life, all that sass and heat, has drained out of her.

She turns to me slowly. “It’s true, isn’t it?” she whispers. “I’ve been holding on too hard.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her. “What are you supposed to do? Just accept it and somehow beokaywith it? Life’s just fucked up, Maya.”

She blinks, her eyes glistening. “That’s just what we have to accept, is it?”

“It’s what I’ve tried to do,” I tell her.

She presses both her hands on mine, leaning closer. Even now, with the tears shining on her cheeks, with her pain tearing through her, there’s this savagery in me that won’t quit. She presses her lips against mine, gasping like she can’t believe how good it feels.

There’s something in her pleasure that gets me going. It’s how suddenly ramped up she is, ready to go and give everything.

“I want to forget,” she moans between kisses. “I don’t want to think …”

The unspoken follow-up is … “About anything,” but we can’t speak anymore. When she throws herself at me, I forget about everything. All I can feel is the heat and the curviness of her body as I press her against the couch, gently laying my weight against her.

My manhood hardens. I grind it against her, savoring the way she moans, the hot breaths moving over my face. When I begin to slide my hand down her body, over her hoodie, I expect her to stop me. I’m moving too fast. I need to chill.

Instead, she shifts slightly, creating some room between us. My whole body trembles as I slip my hand between her legs. She ends the kiss, leaning back and craning her neck. She’s so damn receptive to my touch. I slide my hand against her pants. The fabric is thin, a petal of wetness spreading as I lean back so I can watch her.

Her curvy hips twitch for me as she rides the pleasure. Her moans always come quietly, held back. She doesn’t want to disturb her mother. I get it, but I can’t stop, either.

Moving my hand to her waistband, I push beneath it, feeling the mound of her pussy, tempting me to go further, feel her sweet virgin clit and her fluttering walls, getting ready to take everything I have to give, which is a damn lot with Maya. She turns me into somebody else.

She grabs my wrist and looks at me with wide eyes. “Do you remember what I said?” she whispers.

“Relax,” I tell her, trying to sound soothing and understanding, but my voice comes out deep, husky. “You don’t need to do a damn thing except let that pussy get nice and wet for me. Then cream when you’re all riled up.”

She swallows. A shiver runs through her perfection as she slowly lets go of my hand. My dick is rock-solid, my tip pushing against my zipper. My balls have never felt so full, but somehow, I have to hold back.

“Cream?” she whimpers.

I smirk, but then I can’t smile or make light. My hand glides the rest of the way down, feeling her naked clit, her folds swollen with pleasure, all of her soaked, drenched for me. “Come,” I groan. “You’re going to come for me.”

I can barely get the words out. She lies back on the couch, glancing at the door, guilt trying to grip her. It’s like I can read the thoughts moving through her head; she doesn’t think she deserves this, and she couldn’t be more wrong. I won’t let those intrusive thoughts get the best of her.

Leaning down, I kiss her again, then start to grind my hand faster. Her eyes flutter with the sensation. She moans against my lips when I push my finger against her swollen clit. My hand is soaked, her pussy seeping even more wetness. I’m fucking wild for her. All I want to do is tear a hole in her sweatpants.

I want to see her tight wet slit. Spit on my hand and slide it up and down my dick. I want to slide into her, clamp a hand over her mouth, knowing she has to be quiet, and hammer her until she’s squirting down my dick.

“Come for me,” I growl because I know I have to leave soon, but I want to watch her fall over the edge before I do. She’s making me too crazy. Fuck. I want toclaimher right this second.

She shifts against me, then moans, nodding.

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