Page 26 of Can't Stop
Rayna extends her legs, wincing as her toes point. After lying on these wooden slats for hours, she’s likely stiff as a sock from my early twenties. It feels like it’s been hours, at least. But then I realize she isn’t just stretching. She’s wiggling sideways and easing out from under the bed.
I grip her hand and squeeze until she looks at me. I shake my head, silently begging her to stay put, but she just rolls her eyes and starts scooting again. Not wanting her to take such a risk on her own, I do the only thing I can and follow her.
Once we’re out from under the bed, Rayna steps toward the foot and grips the solid footboard. Moonlight filters through the curtains and plays over her features as she scowls down at the sleeping couple.
Then she lowers her shorts.
“Bones, what are you doing?” I whisper.
Gripping the footboard once more, she bends at the waist and peers at me over her shoulder, biting her lip in that seductive way that drives me wild. “Fuck me, Dalton. Fuck me, but don’t wake them up. And when you’re ready to come, I want you to do it in his hand.” She points at the father, whose hand dangles off the side of the bed.
“I can probably get it up, but I doubt I can?—”
Her eyelashes flutter. “Try?”
Okay. I think I can manage that.
I lower my shorts, then grip her hips and focus on the curve of her ass as she reaches between her legs and brings my hardening cock toward her entrance. We suck in a breath at the same time as we feel that first sweet moment when I push inside her. The combined sound causes Ma Psycho to stir, and the woman turns onto her side. Rayna and I freeze, waiting to see if she’ll wake, but she doesn’t.
My confidence grows, and fuck, Rayna feels amazing. I push forward and earn a small whimper from her. Leaning forward, I shush her, but my warm breath against her neck sends goosebumps springing from her soft skin. Unable to stop myself, I lower my mouth and nip her.
“Fuck,” she whispers, and the woman on the bed shifts again.
“Quiet, bones. Don’t wake them up if you want me to finish.”
That’s easier said than done when I push fully into her again. Her pelvis bumps the footboard, and the motion travels up the bed, pushing the headboard into the wall. Looking back, she grips her bottom lip between her teeth and pushes against me, begging me to hurt her.
I pick up the speed, pulling her hips away from the bed so that we don’t make more noise than we need to. Her beautiful ass jiggles with each forward thrust, and as her head lolls, I see that her eyes are already rolling in her head. I move my hands to her shoulders and ram her harder. On a silent moan, she pushes her hand between her legs and batters her clit to the rapid tempo of my hips against her ass.
Seconds later, her knees begin to shake and her pussy clamps down on my dick. She breathes through it instead of crying out, but I can tell she can’t hold out much longer. Normally I’d hold her here and keep fucking her until she screams, but that isn’t wise, given our current situation.
“Come in his hand,” she whispers, and I pull out of her, because what? But before I can stop her, she’s gripped my cock and started leading me toward the sleeping man’s open hand at the edge of the bed.
“Bones, what are you?—”
It’s no use. She starts jacking my dick, using her pleasure as lube. It feels incredible, and with each rapid stroke, she’s dragging me closer to detonation. It’s too late for thoughts of dead grandmothers as a jet of come blasts from my dick and splats across his skin. Once I’ve spurted the last of it, she releases me and steps closer to the bed.
I grip her arm to stop her. “I think that’s enough.”
Like a wisp of smoke, she twists out of my hold and leans closer to the man’s sleeping face. She grips a lock of her hair in one hand and dangles it over his nose. My own nose begins to itch as she teases his skin with her silky locks, and my face begins to twitch. And so does his.
My stomach lurches as his hand floats toward his face. Rayna hops backward, missing the globby fingers by mere millimeters as they rise. In slow motion, we watch the sticky goo smear over his cheek, nose, and finally, his lips. He licks the latter a few times before turning onto his side and pulling his wife closer with the dirty hand.
Rayna covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. I cover my mouth to hold back the vomit.
When she’s had her fill of laughing at this mess we’ve created, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. We exit the room and pad on silent feet down the hallway. At the top of the stairs, I stop and pull her closer.
“We should split up,” I say into her ear. The words have hardly left my mouth before she begins shaking her head. “Bones . . . we have a greater chance of finding him if we split up. If they come after you, just flash some nip.”
Her eyes fill with tears because we both know this isn’t risky for her. They need her for some sick reasons of their own making, but I’m expendable.
“I’ll be just fine.” I reassure her with a kiss pressed against her temple. “You search?—”
“No. We aren’t splitting up. You never split up in a horror flick. That’s survival one-oh-one.”
I let out a sigh, then nod. “We have to do this. For Van Gogh. Just promise me that if shit goes south, you’ll head for the truck.”
She sets her jaw.
