Page 14 of The Crush
I press my forehead against hers as my fingertips dig into her hips, guiding her attempts to get closer to me into something that makes her eyes flutter closed.
“Danny.” Her fingers are in my hair again as she rocks hesitantly at first against my thigh, and I kiss the tip of her nose, murmuring for her to keep going as quiet moans tumble from her mouth. She helps me strip off her shirt a few moments later, andChrist, I knew she’d be fucking pretty. Knew she’d be so fuckingsoft.
Her gaze goes blurry when I cup her breasts in my palms through the thin material of her bra, rub my thumbs against the stiffening peaks before I push the fabric down and take one in my mouth.Graze her with my teeth before I use my tongue, making her whimper and move against my thigh.
“I want to see you come,” I murmur, moving back up to kiss her, to gently grip the nape of her neck as my words fall right into her open mouth. “Can you do that for me, bonita?”
She bites her bottom lip, her hands desperate on the buttons of my shirt, and I let go of her long enough to tug it over my head. Her fingertips eagerly drag over the newly exposed skin before she reaches for my belt buckle and the button of my jeans, and I catch her wrists in my hand, pinning them between us.
“You first, Isabel.” I shift her slightly, the seam of her shorts hitting right over the muscle of my thigh, and I can tell by her expression that it’s what she needs, that bit of extra pressure to fall apart. “That’s it.” I kiss her again as her breathing gets faster, absorbing every little sigh like oxygen. “Good girl.”
Her nails dig into my chest, and I know she’ll leave marks for me to look at later. I put my hand over hers and push them deeper to make sure of it.
“That’s it,” I tell her again, so fucking hard from watching her, from finally getting my hands on what I’ve been laying awake at night picturing. “Fucking perfect.”
When she does come a few seconds later, I swallow her moan and wish I could swallow her whole.
Twelve
Isabel
Daniel’s arm bands across my back to soften my fall as he lowers me onto his bed. Then he’s standing over me, surrounding me, letting me feel the weight of him. A good thing because I don’t know that I’d actually trust this is happening otherwise.
I can’t get enough of finally having the feeling of him, of being able to skim my hands over his arms, his chest, his stomach, down through the sparse trail of hair disappearing beneath his jeans, and when I reach his belt this time, he doesn’t keep me from undoing it and slipping it free. His eyes meet mine, waiting for my nod after he hooks his fingertips beneath the waistband of my shorts in return. “We don’t have to. We could—”
“I don’t want to wait.” I lift my hips so he can tug my clothes away, his eyes darkening as they rake over me, and maybe I should feel more nervous to have him see me like this but all I can think is that I’ve waited so long for him to see me at all.
“The fucking things I’d like to do to you,” he murmurs, reaching out and skimming his fingertips down my body. Watching my reaction with a satisfied smile.
I wish I could tell him that I have a long list of things, too, but I’m distracted by the sight of him stripping off his jeans, giving me just enough time to fully appreciate his size—seriously howiseverythingabout him impressive?—before he’s grabbing for a condom from his nightstand. He’s about to roll it on before he abruptly pauses, looking at me with a worried frown. “Have you done this before?”
My mind is so fuzzy that it takes me a second to realize what part “this” is.Oh.
“College boyfriend,” I mutter, smiling when I see his expression ease. “That’s okay?”
In answer, he moves back to me, his body covering mine as he takes his time kissing me. “Didn’t want to be the asshole who gave you your first time at this party.”
“I wish my first time was at this party,” I mutter back, meaning for it to be a joke, but Daniel doesn’t seem to find it very funny.
“Why do you say that?” he asks, brow furrowing as he pulls away to search my face. “Was it not good for you?”
“It was fine,” I say, pressing a kiss beneath his jaw in an attempt to get us back on track, because if he stops now I don’t think I’ll survive it. “He just wasn’t…”
You. He wasn’t you.
“It wasfine,” Daniel repeats, slipping his hand between us to cover me at the apex of my thighs. “Stupid fucking college boys.” His thumb starts to rub my clit, and I let my head fall back at the shock of sensation, my body bowing toward his. “Look at you.Fineis a fucking crime.”
When he slips a thick finger inside me a few moments later, I completely understand what he means.
“That’s it, bonita.” His other hand is against my abdomen to keep me where he wants me as I try to shift and rock my hips with how good he feels. My fingers gripping his bed sheets, my teethdigging into my bottom lip to stay quiet when he adds a second finger to thrust shallowly in and out. “That’s it. You ready?”
I nod, breathing rapidly with anticipation. “Please.”
His fingers are slick with me when he grasps my thighs and eases me wider, leans down and pulls me up against him. My body is flush to his and his mouth hovers over mine when he starts to ease inside, advancing slowly and giving me time to adjust as he continues to tell me all the types of things that make me never want to leave this room.
“Good girl.” He pushes deeper, a low groan as he murmurs, “Let me in, Isabel. That’s it.” One of his hands drops back down to my clit, slowly circling in the way he’s already figured out I like. “That’s it.”
I swear I can feel him everywhere, every part of me lighting up like a charged wire even before he’s worked himself all the way inside. He stills for a few moments once he is, trailing his mouth along my brow, my cheek, my throat until I’m begging for him to move. Each deep, measured stroke after seems to break him apart as much as me, though when he makes me come again, he at least still has the presence of mind to muffle the sound of my too-loud moan with his hand.
