Page 51 of Afterglow
Her legs line up with mine, hands guiding me to the water bowl and back. She takes her fingers, along with two of mine, and dips them, pressing their wet tips into the peak of the cone we’ve formed on the wheel. The ends of her ponytail tickle my shoulder, and I nudge them away with my chin and short puffs of air.
“That gave me goosebumps.” Bea extends her neck and pushes against me. “Do it again, but wet it first.”
“Your neck?”
“Mmhmm.”
The wheel whirs, pedal to the floor at the highest speed as my tongue licks a stretch of delicate skin beneath her jaw. I blow a breath over it. Behraz quivers against me. “Good?”
She nods. “Keep going.” Her hands clamp over mine when my mouth grazes over the same spot. “Suck.” I lick and suck, lick and suck, lick and suck until Bea writhes so much, my cock throbs from the friction. “Fuck,” she rasps, releasing the clay, moving our muddy hands from her knees up denim-covered thighs. “Will you touch me, Fletcher?”
“Show me how.”
One of her hands drags my damp, dirty fingers over her inseam. “Right here.” The increasing pressure has her squirming and whimpering my name.
“God damn,” I groan, then tongue over that sensitive spot on her neck again.
“Here, too,” she murmurs, guiding my other hand to her chest. Her breast is soft and firm and heavy. I gasp. “Squeeze,” she demands.
I mold it in my palm, tighter and tighter until it fills and spills over. Building pleasure sparks from my groin, winding and winding, nearly ready to explode. “Bea,” I moan. She doles out the same treatment to my neck with her brilliant fucking tongue, and my head lolls to one side to allow for more.
My foot slides from the pedal, and we break free, her hands wrenching at my hair while I rub concentric circles against her clothed pussy, switching my free hand between her lush tits, leaving us both panting and sweaty and filthy.
“You feel so fucking good,” I breathe into her ear.
She stills, her trim nails biting into my forearm when she lets go and finishes with a wince. I keep her flush to me, lips to her neck, every muscle juddering as my orgasm explodes. We collapse onto one another, and I sheathe her with my body. Her hand reaches for my cheek before she peers up at me.
“That was fucking fantastic.” She beams, then pulls at the clay handprints on her chest and crotch. “You’ve made a mess of me.”
“I guess we’re even.”
“How so?”
My eyes drop to my crotch.
Bea gapes, wide-eyed. “You…came?”
“In my pants.”
“Holy shit. I barely touched you.”
Oh, my God. I came on myself without her touching me. How’s it gonna be when she actually touches me? My cock twitches in response. I’m fucking ruined.
“That is unbelievably hot,” she continues. “And like I said, doing wonders for my ego.”
At this rate, I’m miles ahead of the roster for dryland training. I’m so sexually frustrated, I double up workouts simply to rid myself of it. It’s not particularly effective, but at least it gives me something to think about other than how stunning Behraz looks when she comes.
I finish lifting weights at the gym, but stay an extra hour, joining a group of guys on the basketball court who were short a player. The apartment is eerily quiet when I get back, and I think maybe I forgot about Bea’s therapy appointment or something. My calendar says it’s not until tomorrow.
I shrug to myself and opt for a freezing cold shower.
It’s cut short when I hear a thud. Then there’s a whine. I haphazardly dry myself and tug on a pair of sweats, racing across the apartment while imagining she fell in the shower again.
Chapter 20
Hello, Police? I’d Like to File A Report
Behraz
