Page 47 of Can I Tell You Something?
I watch her from where I’ve paused halfway down the stairs, wishing I could walk right over and scoop her into my arms. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, just begging for my fingers to work it loose. Her mouth, currently pouting away at the book I bought her, belongs underneath mine. I feel that in my bones.
If I could just get five minutes alone with her, I’d make those the best five minutes of our lives. Then again, it’s probably a good thing we always have company because five minutes would never be enough to satisfy the need I feel when I look at her.
“Morning, Hannah.” I take the last few steps into the living area. “Where is everyone?”
“Morning Cameron,” she says, her polite words overruled by her smile, bright and wide and all for me. “My parents just left. They’re skiing over to see some friends in the next village. Ryan has yet to surface.”
I stalk across the room and sit by her feet, dropping a kiss onto her bare knee. Her eyes flit to the stairs and I skate my fingertips up and down the soft skin of her ankle. “Ryan’s with Kayla. He went to hers after you went to bed last night.”
She sits up straight, dropping her book to the floor. “Are you saying we’re alone right now?”
“I think so?”
She bolts to the bottom of the stairs. “Ryan!Are you up there?” A smile spreads across her face when there’s no answer. “You mean to tell me I’ve been sitting here reading when I could have been sneaking into your bed?”
“I would have loved that. You waking me up with your pretty mouth.” I hop into her spot, lean against the back, and pat my thigh. “Come here.”
My girl is growing bolder, and wastes no time dropping one knee on either side of my hips so she can straddle my lap. Her hands find their way up underneath my t-shirt, nimble fingers skating over my stomach as she bites her lip and throws her head back.
My hands start at her knees, sliding up her thighs with my thumbs pushing up under the hem of her pyjama shorts. I want to take my time with her, but I don’t know how long we have and I won’t waste a second on conversation when it could be spent making her come.
Leaning forward, I tug her t-shirt aside so I can taste her collarbone while my other hand grabs her ass and pulls her further up to where my dick is hard and waiting in my pants.
She lands just right, grinding against the bulge. “Oh, Cam, please, I want—”
“Can I fuck you here?”
“Oh God, yes. Please,” she gasps. I haven’t even kissed her yet. I grip her jaw, tilting her face down and she opens for me, my tongue invading her mouth without a second thought, desperately seeking the bliss I’ve only ever found beneath her kisses.
I flip her to her back and press down on her hips, pinning her to the chair as I put some space between us. “Bend over the back of the chair and pull those pathetic excuse for shorts down. I want to see all of you.”
She does as she’s told, and fast. Everything blurs when she sticks her ass out towards me, plump pink skin glistening between her thighs. I want to eat her, tease her, or just sit and look. Admire every curve, every fold, every drop that trickles down her thigh while she waits for me to touch her. I’d love to get her begging, wriggling against nothing, frantic with anticipation.
Too many options and not enough time, but I’m a greedy man. I dip my head to lick from her clit to her entrance and back down again. Hannah groans and bucks wildly, hips pushing back against me.
“Wait right there.”
“Where are you going?” Her voice is pleading, like she can’t bear to be separated even for a moment. I can’t pretend I don’t love it.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t move a fucking muscle.”
I take the stairs two at a time, rushing to my room to find a condom and hurrying back down. I kneel behind her, ripping it out of the packet, pushing my pyjama pants down past my hips and rolling it on.
“You ready baby?” She answers by wiggling back against me, arching up, hands gripping the back of the chaise.
I fist the base of my cock, sliding the head up and down her lips, tipping my hips to inch gently between them. She’s tight, especially with her shorts keeping her thighs together, but she’s so slick for me it only takes a few slow thrusts until I’m buried deep.
“Fuck.Fuck!” she cries out.
“For such a polite girl, you’ve got a dirty fucking mouth, Hannah.” My words only encourage her, and she begins to send her hips back, matching my thrusts with her own pace.
I’ve been so focussed on her, the curve of her lower back, the swell of her ass, that I hadn’t even looked up to remember where we are.
“Up straight,” I tell her, pulling out and twisting her to one side. “Hands on the window.”
Gripping her hips, I slide back into her and the force of my thrust pushes her up against the glass.
“Ahh, cold,” she gasps.
