Page 55 of When It's Us
What the fuck, man?
Luckily, Ginger doesn’t seem to notice. She latches onto my earlobe, sucking hard, then nipping like she’s trying to restart me from the outside in.
And it’s working—sort of.
I focus on the feel of her mouth, the sharp tug of her teeth, willing myself to stop thinking about everything I’m suddenly not proud of.
“I don’t have one,” I admit, opening my eyes and shaking my head like it might knock the memory loose.
She kisses me deeper, rougher, shoving her tongue into my mouth like she wants to shut my brain off entirely.
Andshit, that’s nice.
She pulls back enough to meet my eyes, panting, wild and gorgeous and maddening.
“How does the self-professed town fuckboy not have condoms?”
Her tone is pure Ginger—snarky as hell—and somehow it doesn’t piss me off.That mouth has never failed to get my dick hard.
And sure enough…We’re back, baby.
I fist a handful of her hair and tug her head back so she can’t look away from me. “I wasn’t expecting the fuckin’ ice queen to beg for my dick,” I snipe, and I swear little flames light her eyes. Tension crackles between us. It lights me the fuck up. Her eyes flash in challenge as she glares up at me.
“I wouldn’t beg for your dick if it was the last dick on the planet,” she bites out, and I tighten my fist in her hair.
I shove my hips forward again, and she whimpers. “Liar.”
You’re such an asshole,” she bites out, grinding her hips forward. It catches me off guard, but I’m loving this game she’s playing—and I’m not going anywhere. I can feel the heat in her movements, like she’s chasing more friction, and I’m more than happy to meet her halfway.
I trap her wrists in one hand and hold them above her head, then drive my hips forward, pinning her ass to the bed. We’re nose to nose, both breathing hard. “Yeah, and you’re a little shit.”
Her eyes flare with heat and she struggles to buck her hips, tugging against the hold I have on her wrists.
“Get off me,” she says but it’s breathy, lust swirling in her eyes, and the imperceptible squeeze of her thighs around my hips tells me she doesn’t really want me to.
I shake my head once, looming over her. “No.”
I wait, chest heaving with anticipation, hunger, tension. I’m so turned on I can feel precum slick in my boxers. My eyes flick between hers before dropping lower, catching on the peaks of her nipples through her T-shirt—so hard they could cut glass. I grind my hips against hers, and she whimpers, her eyes rolling back. I lean in, running my nose up her neck.
“The pretty little sounds you’re making, and those hard nipples are giving me mixed signals, California.”
I turn my head and run my tongue along her bottom lip, and she opens for me, allowing me to sweep inside. I fuck her mouth with my tongue like I would my cock as I keep her arms pinned. She writhes underneath me.
“F-Fuck you,” she grunts softly, rocking her hips the slightest bit, as if her body and brain are at war with one another—eyelashes fluttering closed.
I chuckle against the skin of her neck, then suck hard before soothing the spot with my tongue. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She grunts, bucking her hips again.
“You know, the more you fight this, the more I want it.”
“Maybe if you want it, you should stop being a little bitch and take it,” she grinds out, a challenge flashing in her eyes.
Her words hit like a damn match to gasoline. I pull back, making her whine, holding her eyes as I roll my hips slow and hard against her.
“Mmm, don’t stop,” she whimpers, desperate and low against my mouth.
Not a fucking chance. I grind my cock against her cunt. I know it’s dripping inside those flimsy leggings. I kiss her until she’sbreathless and her lips are swollen and red. She bucks her hips again, so I release her hands and put a little space between our hips.
