Page 100 of False God

Charlie makes a husky sound in the back of his throat. Then he’s hovering over me, tossing the condom packet in his right hand onto the pillow beside mine before gathering most of my hair into his fist. His hips drop into mine, the firm ridge of his erection rubbing that needy spot.

“You’re fucking soaked, Lili.”

“I’ve been wet since you got here,” I admit.

He growls, grabbing my right knee and hooking it over his hip as he grinds his erection against my clit. “You know what I think about all the time now?”

“Work?” I pant.

I catch the ghost of a smile before his mouth lands on my breast. He sucks the raised point of my nipple, then bites gently.

I try to contain the desperate whimper, I really do, but it bursts out anyway. If anyone else is still awake, they likely have an exact idea of what’s happening in my room.

“I think about this tight cunt.” He pushes two fingers into my pussy. “And I think about this sinful mouth.” He kisses me, tugging my lower lip between his teeth. “And I think about these perky tits.” He lets go of my hair to tweak my stinging nipple, the fingers of his other hand curling, making my inner muscles spasm. It’s not his cock, which is what I really want, what I can feel—hot and hard—against my thigh. But it still feelssogood—another hit of an addictive drug.

I’m soaking his hand. Probably soaking the sheets too.

I wiggle against him, trying to stimulate more friction. I love the way he touches me urgently, but doesn’t rush, yet I hate it too. I want this to last forever, and I need it to happen now.

“I’m close.”

“I know.” He sounds deservedly smug. “Your cunt is squeezing the shit out of my fingers.”

His hand shifts, hitting a different angle, and the burst of spectacular sensation almost sends me over the edge. My moan is loud. Desperate.

He’swaytoo good at this.

His thumb rubs torturous circles around my clit. I bite my tongue so hard that I taste blood, trying to keep from shouting as pressure continues to build in my pelvis. As he coaxes me to theedge and keeps me there. My fingernails sink into his shoulders, scratching and scoring. Silently begging.

I beg out loud too.

I’m feverish with desire by the time he reaches for the condom.

I cry out in response to the sudden stretch.

My inner muscles contract around his erection, finally alleviating the empty ache.

It’s better than I remember. I don’t know how that’s possible.

Charlie’s hand slides down to my hip so he can adjust me exactly where he wants. His mouth moves to my neck. He bites gently enough not to break the skin. Hard enough to leave a mark.

I lift a hand and shove my fingers into his hair. His lips press against my collarbone, sucking, bruising more skin.

It’s hot, himbrandingme almost. I shouldn’t like it, but it’s about to send me over the edge.

“I’m going to wear a bathing suit tomorrow,” I say as his lips move to a new spot.

I’m not sure why that comes out. Some reminder, I guess, that we’ll see each other in the morning, when these marks will be visible. He agreed to go sailing when Theo was talking about the boat earlier, so I know he’s not intending to take off first thing.

There’s a pause. Followed by a gruff “I don’t give a fuck.”

He’s still pumping into me, but the pace is slow. And no matter how much I whine or wriggle or attack his back, he doesn’t thrust any faster.

Finally, I lose patience. I maneuver away until his dick slips all the way out, then roll over to face him.

“Sit up,” I tell Charlie, stripping the sheets down the bed and crawling toward him.

His abs bunch as he complies, leaning back on his palms with his thighs spread. His thick cock almost stretches to his belly button, the latex covering it glossy in the moonlight spilling through the curtains.

---