Page 103 of The Princess Trap
He knew in that instant that he wouldn’t last.
Rahul undid his jeans with frantic hands, as if she’d change her mind if he was too slow. Hell, she just might. Still, it took him longer than it should’ve because he couldn’t take his eyes off her. When he finally freed his cock, he gripped the base of his shaft so tight his knuckles hurt.
“Come here,” he ordered.
She smiled slightly as she knelt. “You’re bossy.”
Apparently, yes. “Touch yourself.” Because there was no way he could make her orgasm. He’d never touched a woman in his life. But he wanted her to come—and fast, because there was so much slickness gleaming on the head of his cock, he wondered ifhewasn’t coming already, slow and stealthy.
She rubbed her clit in tight little circles, and his mouth went dry. With her free hand, she pushed her purse over to him, a little thing she carried everywhere. He opened it, glad to have something to focus on that wasn’t her, because she was driving him out of his fucking mind. In the purse he found her student ID, countless hair slides, money, and a condom. Huh.
He hoped he could get the condom on without coming, or fucking it up. He gritted his teeth, thought of statement analysis, and rolled on the latex without disaster. One hurdle dealt with.
Jasmine crawled towards him, her skirt falling, which was both good and terrible. She pushed him back until he laid on the floor, his erection jutting up from his body, almost painfully hard. She straddled his thighs, and he must enjoy torture, because when she grasped his cock he gathered up her skirt with one hand so that he could see.
Rahul watched as her pussy swallowed his length. Felt power surge at the base of his spine, felt an insistent ache in his balls and pure desperation zipping through his nerve endings. Saw her stretch around his cock and felt her velvet heat choke him, burning and wet even through the condom. She moaned as she settled against him, and he swore not to disgrace himself completely. He would last minutes rather than seconds.
She started to ride him, slow and easy and impossibly perfect. Rahul reached forward and circled the pad of his thumb around her clit, the way he’d seen her do it.
“God, yes,” she whispered. “Touch me like that.”
Had he ever heard anything so arousing in his life?Wouldhe ever? No. He was ruined. Absolutely ruined, from this moment on.
He reached up and tugged down the neckline of her T-shirt, exposing her sweet little tits—no bra. Barely any flesh for a bra to hold. Her nipples were dark and thick and hard because she wanted him. He could feel her wetness slicking his thighs because she wanted him. She arched against him, rode him hard, because she wanted him.
He shouldn’t have thought about that. Now he was going to come.
But he would have every inch of her while he could. Rahul rubbed her clit a little faster, and almost shouted when he felt her tighten around him. God, it was so good. So fucking good. How could anything on earth feel like this? How could people do anything other than fuck?
She put her hand to his face, caught his jaw, forced him to look her in the eyes. Her voice was low and shaking as she whispered, “Say my name.”
“Jasmine.” The word was harsh, strangled as release tore through him. His vision blurred. She threw her head back, and her lips parted, and she let out a choked, keening cry—and then her pussy was clenching his cock impossibly, beautifully, and it was just too fucking perfect.
He might’ve passed out for a second. He wasn’t sure. One minute, she was milking the come from him and he was dying happily beneath her, and the next she was sprawled against his chest, her hair in his face.
Oh; that was something he’d forgotten to have. He hadn’t touched her hair.
And she hadn’t kissed him. He was greedy, because even after all that, he wished she would kiss him.
She pushed herself up all at once, with a little huff. She was smiling, of course. That smile would haunt his dreams, even when he was in his fucking grave. She patted him on the shoulder in a friendly sort of manner, as if they’d just finished a football match.
“Christ,” she panted. “Aren’t you a surprise?”
He decided to ignore that. As she clambered off of him, her heat releasing his softening cock, Rahul fumbled in his jeans pocket and produced a handkerchief.
“Do you—?”
“Don’t worry,” she smirked. “I’m good. Is that a hankie?”
He ignored that too. He sat up, panting, and looked around her hallway. Fuck. He’d barely even gotten in the door. He wondered what the etiquette was now. “What are you doing tonight?”
She shrugged, but her smile turned sharp. “Not much. I’m open to a repeat.”
He dealt with the condom—for now—and scrambled to his feet, her words shooting through his veins. She was already standing, straightening her clothes.
“Come out with me later,” he blurted, before he lost his courage.
Her smile faded. She didn’t speak.
