Page 8 of Stone

My hold on him tightens despite my struggle to embrace him properly because of our size difference.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, with less conviction this time.

“I want to,” I whisper, and place a kiss on the nape of his neck without thinking, then I smile when he shudders beneath my touch. “We both know you sleep better with me by your side.”

He huffs loudly and my smile grows; I’m winning him over. “You should leave.” I roll my eyes. I’m not going anywhere.

“Mmm, I know.” Slowly, I sit up, and with a confidence I’ve never felt before, I slip the straps of my camisole top down, exposing my breasts, then I slink back into position with my tits flush against this solid back.

“What the…” He gulps, letting me know how affected he is. “Ar-are you naked?” His ragged breaths send a wave of arousal through me, and I’m throbbing with need. My nipples pressed against his back heighten my wanton need for him, a need for him to touch me.

The air surrounding us thickens. A line is drawn.

Will he touch me?

Can he give in to this desire we have for one another?

Can we cross the line we will never come back from?

All I know is, the line disappeared a long time ago for me. But not for Stone. He’s always kept it, with good reason too. Our family would not just kill him, they’d destroy him bit by bit in the most brutal of ways.

Doubt lingers in the forefront of my mind as I push myself harder against him.

Just one touch, I tell myself.

I swallow hard. “Just my top half. I want to feel your bare skin against mine.” My voice comes out silky, high on desire. I wrap my arm over him again, clinging to his forearm with a viselike grip. Every muscle in his body is coiled tight, and I wish he would relax and embrace my touch as I am him.

He shakes his head but doesn’t ask me to cover up. “This is so fucking wrong,” he chokes out.

“But it feels so right, Stone,” I whisper.

“It shouldn’t.”

“It shouldn’t.”

We lie there in silence, my heart beating against his tattered back, and my fingers wrapped around his arm as I hug him close.

“Are you hard?” I whisper.

I wait for what feels like a lifetime for his response, but when it comes, I’m elated. “Yeah.”

My breasts ache, and my core throbs at the thought of me turning him on.

Our family has ridiculed Stone’s lack of sexual promiscuity, and my father once suggested it was due to him being unable to perform, but I know differently. He’s perfectly capable of becoming hard. I’ve witnessed it countless times, even when he thinks I’m unaware.

They think he’s broken, but Stone was meant to withstand the greatest of destruction.

“Does it hurt?” I place another kiss on the base of his neck, and he groans.

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

Warmth and hope build inside me as I smile into his back. “Make yourself feel better,” I whisper, so turned on I want nothing more than to mount him and fuck him senseless, but we both know that can never happen. My virginity needs to stay intact.

“Sienna.” His tone is full of warning, and I rejoice in it.

“I want you to. Don’t you see? I need you to, Stone,” I whine. “My nipples are hard; can you feel them?” I lean away, then push myself into his back again, encouraging the tips of my nipples to brush against his skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts, thrusting his hips like he’s unable to control them. “Fuck.”

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