Page 47 of No Strings
Morgan whimpers my name. Her breathing has picked up, coming in short, broken pants.
“Close?”
She lets out a breathy yes.
“You’re doing such a good job riding my thigh.”
“Rhys.” She pulls my hair causing a spark of pain.
“Come Princess, come all over my thigh.”
Her hips stutter in my grip. She forces her lips to mine, letting out a choked sound, that is somewhere between a whimper and a moan. Her legs squeeze mine in their vice grip.
“Good girl. Come apart for me.”
She goes still before relaxing and melting into my hold, so I keep moving her hips, helping her through her orgasm.
We sit here like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, until reality comes crushing down around us. Pushing up from my hold, she looks at me with wide eyes, “What did we just do?”
“We? I did nothing.” I shrug.
“You did nothing?”
“Well, I didn’t come, did I?”
She lifts up off me and falls to the bed. I immediately miss her warmth. But when I look down at my thigh, I notice a small wet spot. Fuck she must be soaked. We’re both wearing jeans and yet her cum left a little patch. Just for me. I shouldn’t smile at it, but I do.
Morgan follows my gaze. “Oh my God. I’ll wash them.”
“No, I think I’ll keep them like this.” I trace the spot with my finger.
“Whatever, it’ll dry anyway.”
“But I’ll know.” I risk taking a look at her. She in her ‘Morgan pose’. Hip popped to the side arm crossed over her chest, well under because they have pushed her tits up. And well her expression is just bored, as is her tone,
“Get out of my room.”
I push myself forward so I’m resting on the side of the bed, “Is that anyway to speak to someone who just helped you get off.”
“Ha, so you did do something.”
I stand up from her bed and rearrange myself. I take pleasure in the way her eyes grow wide at the bulge in my pants.
Fuck, what am I doing?
“Yeah, I helped my best friend’s sister fuck herself on my leg.”
“Don’t say that out loud.” She groans as if coming on me was the worst thing that could have happened.
“Bye, Princess.”
I make a promise to myself that it won’t happen again. What just happened was a one off. We just got caught up in the moment, again. At least that’s what I try telling myself. Over and over again. All the way to the shower, where I fuck my fist to the way she said my name. The way she kissed me. The way she came apart for me. On me.
Chapter Fourteen
MORGAN
The next morning, I don’t know if I avoid Rhys, or just act like nothing happened. I can’t believe I fucked myself on his thigh. What was I thinking? I wasn’t, and that’s the problem.
