Page 67 of Crave Thy Neighbor

She pinches her eyes shut tight, then exhales heavily, and I don’t dare move, too afraid I’m going to spook her.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s staring right at me…and she’s begging me to do the one thing I’ve been wanting to do for over a week straight now.

Kiss her.

I’m not dumb enough to let the opportunity pass me by.

I crash my lips to hers, and she melts into me, sighing like she’s been waiting for this moment for a lifetime.

I close the last of the distance between us, curling one hand around her waist and sliding the other into her messy bun, dragging her to the edge of the counter. My cock brushes against her pussy and I swallow her moan.

Her hands fist my shirt, holding on to me like I’m holding on to her—desperately.

Our mouths move together in a slow kiss as we find a rhythm with our hips, rubbing against one another like horny teens.

I brush the pad of my finger against her skin where her shirt has ridden up. She’s soft and warm and feels so damn good. I inch my way up under her shirt, skidding my fingers over her, loving the way her skin rises against my touch. I’m pleased to find she never put a bra on as I cup her tit, brushing my thumb across her nipple. She shudders at the touch and groans into my mouth again.

I do it again.

And again.

She’s so responsive, and I want nothing more than to rip this fucking sweater from her body and bury my face between her tits.

A wet spot forms on my sweats. I don’t know if it’s from my leaking dick or her soaking through her leggings, and fuck if that thought doesn’t take me closer to the edge.

If we don’t stop soon, I’m going to embarrass myself.

Not wanting to stop touching her, I pull my lips from hers and nip my way over her jaw as she gulps in air. Her fingers are still wrapped up in my shirt, holding me tight like she’s afraid to let go as she slowly rubs against me.

“Nolan…” She whispers my name as a plea, and right now I’ll give in to anything she asks me. “I need…”

She doesn’t have to say anything.

I know what she needs.

Because I fucking need it too.

Without thinking too hard about it, I break our contact long enough to pull her shirt over her head. Her hands are on me again the moment it’s gone.

I stare down at her as she peers up at me with lustful eyes, her tits hanging out in all their glory.

And they are glorious, too, the pink of her nipples matching her lips like I thought they would.

She’s gorgeous, even when she blushes under my watchful gaze.

I hold her stare as I trace a single finger over the hardened buds, and I’m rewarded with another shudder.

“Beautiful,” I mutter before I give in and close my mouth around her.

She groans and clutches the back of my head, holding me to her, and I nearly come right then.

I switch to her other breast, nipping and lapping at the sensitive peaks. I don’t know how long I spend going back and forth—I could do it all fucking day—but I don’t miss the way her breathing stutters and she’s writhing against the counter, searching for more contact.

I’m more than willing to oblige.

I trail kisses back to her lips, covering her whimpers with my mouth, and finger the waist of her leggings.

When she realizes what I’m wanting, she tips her hips toward me, more than eager for my touch.

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