Page 52 of Collision
“This is how you get in trouble.” His eyes blaze with desire. “Big trouble.”
“That’s my specialty.” I hold my breath as, with another movement of his pelvis, his erection rubs against a very specific spot between mythighs. In an automatic reflex, Thomas clutches my hair in his fist and tries to suppress a moan of gratification. He lets loose with an actual moan when I begin rubbing myself against him more passionately. I feel like I’m beginning to lose control as well.
“Ness…”
“Give me…” I bring my lips close to his before finally touching them. A series of shivers flood my spine. His lips are soft and full, and I savor their faint aftertaste of smoke.
“You’re drunk,” he murmurs hoarsely into my mouth. I’m not listening. With my heart beating wildly, I continue this slow torture, elusive and delicate, as if I were playing out a little game of seduction between our bodies. He doesn’t retreat but doesn’t seem willing to reciprocate either. Instead, he thoroughly studies my every movement with his eyes open wide, his breath short, and his muscles tensed.
To coax him into yielding, I tease him with the tip of my tongue. I lick the edge of his mouth. We both hold back a shiver. I do it again, and again. Only then does Thomas tighten his grip on my hair and move his hips against me. Instinctively, I press my legs together to soothe my arousal.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” he growls. But I don’t give him a chance to add anything else. At this exact moment, this is the only thing I want to do.
I move to his mouth and kiss him with all the strange passion and perversion that Thomas brews within me. He doesn’t reciprocate immediately the way I had hoped. He is using all of his self-control to hold himself back, but I feel the desire he has for me. I sense it everywhere. So I don’t give up and decide to be daring… With trembling fingers, I creep down to the elastic of his boxer shorts. I open my palm over his bulge and begin to move up and down, with motions that are relentless, intense, and perhaps a little clumsy. Nevertheless, I feel him quivering, pulsing more and more under my touch. With a brutal growl, Thomas bites my lip, leaving me breathless.
His tongue invades my mouth hungrily, and my body explodes. I cling to him, kissing him wildly. My mind is foggy with desire andmy body burning with passion and urgency. His tongue piercing gives me a new and terribly exciting feeling. When I find the strength to break away from him, I am bewildered. I’m breathing hard. His face is flushed. I thought kissing him would appease this desire, but it has only amplified it.
I move closer for more, and as soon as our lips touch again, I go up like gasoline tossed onto a campfire. I straddle him because contact with just his mouth is no longer enough for me. I feel his erection pressing against me through the thin layer of my panties and, with a lack of inhibition that is completely foreign to me, I grind myself against him, desperate to relieve the devastating heat I feel between my thighs. With one hand Thomas clasps the hair on the nape of my neck, with the other he squeezes my side nearly hard enough to bruise. The pace of my movements increases with the intensity of his grip. We find ourselves moaning together in a whirlwind of arousal. I don’t know what I am doing, but I do know that I have never felt better than this.
Our tongues entwine greedily until we run out of breath. We pull away gasping, and I press my forehead to his. Two dilated pupils stare at me longingly; a vein on his neck throbs so hard I fear it might burst at any moment, just like my heart. His erection throbs between my thighs, and I feel the fabric of my panties getting wetter and wetter. I smile at him, pleased with the effect I seem to be having on him and by the feelings that he provokes in me. I move to kiss him again, but Thomas stops me.
He puts his hands on my shoulders and shakes his head. “You’re drunk.”
“Yes and no.” True, the alcohol is probably making me more uninhibited, but I am clearheaded enough to know what I am doing. And I want to do it.
“That doesn’t work for me,” he replies seriously, as our breathing regulates.
“I don’t understand, you don’t… You don’t want me?” I ask, straightening up away from his face, trying to hide my humiliated expression.
He frowns. “So, according to you, that hard dick you’re sitting onmeans I don’t want you?”
“Then don’t stop.” I pull his hands off my shoulders and draw close to his face, brushing his lips with my own. “Make me forget, Thomas,” I beg him in a whisper, moving my pelvis against him. “I need it.”
“You’ll regret it.”
“Don’t treat me like I’m a virgin. I’m not.” I lean forward and kiss his neck softly, tracing imaginary lines with the tip of my tongue. “It’s just sex.” I reach his mouth, lick his lip, and bite him hard as he had done to me. I feel him trembling beneath me. I am playing dirty, but I need this. I need to feel desired by someone, even if only for one night.
“All right, I’ve let you have your playtime, that’s enough.” He grunts as though annoyed, but I can see in his eyes how much he wants me. As much as I want him. Thomas, however, grabs me by the waist and moves me off him. I fall flat on my back on the mattress, unsatisfied.
I sigh impatiently and prop myself up on my elbows. “You know what? If you don’t want to do it, then I’ll go find someone who will. That party downstairs is full of assholes desperate to take a turn,” I spit acidly, with a language and boldness that surprise even me. I get out of bed, committing to my charade and hoping that it will have the desired effect. I reach the door, but just as I begin to open it, a large, tattooed palm shuts it vehemently. I hide a pleased smile. Thomas grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“Downstairs.”
He takes a few steps forward until my back collides with the door. I find myself trapped, with no escape route.
But why would I want to run anywhere?
“Get your ass back on that mattress,” he orders peremptorily, his cheeks slightly reddened.
I am about to refuse and tell him that he can’t tell me what to do, but he raises a corner of his mouth impudently and adds, “If you want to get fucked by some asshole, then that asshole is gonna be me…” He grabs my face with one hand and forces me to look him in the eye. “Aslong as it really is just sex,” he says, making it clear.
“Just sex,” I reassure him.
He tastes my lip and then sinks his tongue into my mouth. His vetiver scent overwhelms me. I breathe him in deeply. Without interrupting our kiss, he picks me up off the ground, catching me by surprise. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist. He pulls me back onto the bed, where he drops me beneath him. He grabs me by my thighs, spreading them apart and positioning himself between them as I cling to his elbows. He presses his hips against mine, and I am overwhelmed by a wave of heat so powerful that I have to arch my back and inhale deeply into his mouth. He pulls back a bit, his index finger brushing my lips, my neck, and the cleft between my breasts covered by the fabric of his T-shirt. With his other hand, he squeezes my left breast and gently massages the already stiff nipple. I watch, mesmerized, as he bends down and buries his face between my thighs.
He licks me through my soaked panties and then nibbles, teasing me slowly, in such an obscene way that it makes me even wetter.
