Page 53 of Fumbled Into Love

I loosen my grip, and Nathalie blinks before she sways her hips, eyes locked with mine as she moves. Another moantumbles from her, and my cock pulses, my erection borderline painful as she teasingly shifts in my lap.

Fuck.

What the hell have I unleashed?

CHAPTER 13

“How you’re looking at me, I know what it means, and I’m obsessed”

Bed Chem – Sabrina Carpenter

Nathalie

I’m going to fuck Deon Adams.

It’s my only thought as I grind against him, chasing the euphoria building in my veins. His lips crash against mine, fist wrapped around my hair as he consumes me whole. His free hand drops to my hip, and he begins to guide my movements, pulling me back and forth over his cock that strains for freedom beneath his costume. The pressure in my core continues to compound, and for the first time, I think I might come without battery-operated assistance.

It’s never happened without hard work and my trusty vibrator and the men I’ve been with grew tired of trying or wereoffended when I brought out a toy as if it was a direct hit to their masculinity.

As long as Deon continues to do exactly what he’s doing, it might happen.

A fiery make-out session with Deon, and I’m the closest I’ve ever come to an orgasm with a man, and all my clothes are still on. It’s even more shocking given the alcohol I’ve consumed, which only makes it harder to come.

His grip on my waist tightens before slowly moving northward, my costume riding up and leaving my stomach bare. His erection presses between my thighs, and my stomach bottoms out at the size of him.

My hands glide down his shoulders, along the panes of his torso toward his waistband, when his hand covers mine, stopping me.

Deon breaks the kiss, chest heaving. His pupils are blown as his thumb swipes against my abdomen.

“If we do this,” Deon starts. He meanswhenwe do this. “It’s only sex. Nothing more.”

I nod in understanding.

“No feelings,” I confirm. It’s not worth explaining all the sex I’ve had is the ‘no feelings’ kind of sex. The only difference between those times and now is a sliver of a chance I might orgasm and enjoy the experience. “Now, are you going to take my clothes off, or do I need to do it myself?”

My brain hasn’t caught up with reality yet, but as his fingers deftly unravel the laces of my costume, my vagina hums in anticipation. She’s gone far too long without a romp in the sheets. Using toys is nice in a pinch, but I enjoy having sex with someone.

Half the fun is the build-up. The lingering touches. The heated gazes. The make-out session that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

Something shifted with Deon’s claiming kiss in Maren’s kitchen. He walked out the door and into the backyard, and in an instant, the attractive yet off-limits friend in my head morphed into someone I would have zero qualms about jumping into the sheets with, even with his ban on love.

The kiss in the kitchen was the first where he led. It was full of purpose and promise, and it left me desperate for more. Sawyer and Maren were relentless in their teasing, and I had to pretend it was planned.

None of this is a part of our plan, but the plan can burn in Hell for all I care as long as he continues to touch me.

Deon clutches the hem of my top, and I lift my arms. He discards the clothing without a second glance, and his gaze darkens as he intently watches the way my breasts rise and fall.

No one has ever looked at me this way before.

I reach between my shoulder blades, unclasp the lacy black bra, and shrug it from my shoulders. We need to get this show on the road, and he is not undressing quickly enough.

“If you don’t start undressing, I’ll go to my room and get myself off with my vibrator.”

My threat hangs in the air before Deon rips his shirt over his head, revealing the glorious corded muscle evidence of his dedication to football. I place a hot, languid kiss on his sternum, and Deon groans, the sound tumbling through the apartment.

His pleasure strikes my core, and I rise from his lap, shimmying off my pants, leaving me bare but for my black lace panties.

I almost wore my old, stained period underwear because they’re comfortable, and I have never been so happy with a past decision as I am right now, especially with how he watches me.

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