Page 47 of Texting My Valentine

Fuck.

She couldn’t have said anything more captivating.

I kiss her passionately, claiming her lips as I lift her off her feet. She giggles adorably, wrapping her legs around my waist, letting me drive my solid length against her through the fabric of our clothes.

Carrying her through the apartment, I kick open the bedroom door and place her on the bed. She reaches up, clawing for me. There’s a hint of hungry desperation in her movements. It’s like she doesn’t want us to be apart because then she might doubt herself.

I need to be the mature one if I’m noticing things like this.

Don’t I?

But I can’t.

I fall upon her, letting out a groan when my lips come to her neck. Her noises urge me on, her breath catching as she slides her arms down my back. She tears at my shirt.

“Are you trying to hint at something?” I tease.

Her cheeks flush gorgeously.

“I need you to say it,” I growl.

“Take your shirt off,” she whispers.

I lean back and tear my shirt off. Buttons pop, making her laugh. Then I grab her shirt and try to pull it over her head, but that same look of nerves flutters over her face. She places her hand on my wrist.

“What are you afraid of?” I ask, every muscle tense and throbbing.

“Are you sure you want to see me?”

“You’re joking,” I groan. “There’s no damn way you’re asking me that. You’re the only woman I want to see.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she murmurs.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” I snarl, pulling her shirt over her head, revealing her luscious tits hidden within her bra. “Maybe I should be good. Maybe I should try and pretend that this Valentine’s thing doesn’t mean a damn thing. Maybe…”

But I can’t resist her anymore. I kiss down her mounds, then unclip her bra at the front. When the material falls away, I let out a shudder of pure desire. Her breasts are round and large, the definition of curvaceous. I tenderly massage one while bringing my mouth to her other, sucking her nipple.

“Oh, Alex,” she whimpers urgently. “Yes, yes…”

I slide my hand from her breast and over her stomach. When she cringes, I reluctantly release her nipple and lean back. “What the fuck was that about, gorgeous?”

“What?” she murmurs, but I can tell she knows what I mean. “It’s just, when you touched my belly… But it’s not a big deal.”

“Your figure isperfect,” I tell her, kissing her lips, then her breasts, then her stomach. She giggles. “Perfect, Tori, and don’t you dare think otherwise, got it?”

I return to her lips, gliding my hand down her body as our kisses become more urgent. I slip into her waistband and into her underwear, my dick leaking as I get closer to her clit and her warm entrance.

Her heat gives me an aching preview of how she’ll feel wrapped around my shaft. She moans, opening her mouth, our teeth clicking in the mayhem of lust.

Her eyes are wide with almost disbelief as if she’s stunned by how right this feels. I smear her wetness over her sex, groaning as I rub her faster, captivated, no, hypnotized by the pleasure sizzling in her expression.

After a minute or two, she begins to move her hips in time with my hand. It makes her breasts shiver and shake, herbody twitching. My cock has never been harder, my tip pushing urgently against my pants, trying to escape, trying to claim her.

“Oh, oh,” she gasps, her mouth opening and closing like she’s struggling to stop from screaming. “Freaking… fucking… oh…”

I move to her entrance, slipping my finger inside as I press the heel of my palm against her clit at the same time. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget the way her moan changes when I apply pressure.

It goes from excitement flooded with desire to unstoppable. Nothing could prevent her curvy, flawless body from gifting me with an orgasm now. She closes her legs around my hand, trapping it there.

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