Page 61 of When It's Us
“You’re soaked. Fucking dripping for it. You want to be fucked stupid, don’t you?” I say against her mouth as I rock my palm against her core.
“Stop teasing me,” she says breathlessly, rocking her hips against my hand.
I chuckle against her collarbone and then scrape my teeth along her neck. “Me? I almost came in my fucking pants when you rubbed your ass on me.”
I curl my fingers inside her and she cries out. “Oh God, this is a horrible time to not have fucking condoms. I need you inside me like yesterday.”
“Yeah?” I pant against her mouth. “This slutty little pussy needs my cock? That what you need?”
She whimpers, and I revel in the feeling of the soft planes of her body against mine, the feel of my fingers moving inside her. Warm, wet,tight. But it’s not enough. “So much.”
“I could pick some up today,” I say, while shoving my tongue in her mouth. “But for now, get your hands on my cock, filthy girl,” I rasp out, before lifting her shirt and pulling it off. I drop it at my feet and suck one of her peachy pink nipples into my mouth.
Her hand dives into the front of my sweats and she grips my cock, wasting no time working me over from root to tip. I really have to focus on givingherpleasure because the combination of her hand on my dick and her tit in my mouth is so strong I almost blow on the second stroke.
“We’ll be home today,” she mumbles against my neck. “Road trip’s almost over.”
Her tone is casual, and I can’t tell if she really wants this to end today or if she’s giving me shit. But I can’t think clearly because my dick is currently harder than it’s ever been, and I can’t seem to stop fucking into her fist.
“Mmm, fuck,” I mumble against her nipple before moving up to take her mouth in another bruising kiss.
“God, your cock,” she pants when I break the kiss to catch my breath. “This piercing is so fucking hot.” She tugs at the barbell and reaches down to cup my balls, too.
“Fucking hell. Keep that up and I’ll be coming early.” I let out a low grunt as I fight to control the orgasm barreling up my spine.
She drops my cock and grabs my hips, yanking me forward so my thighs hit the counter. My dick bobs between us, and she reaches back down, pressing the tip to her clit. She wraps my fist around my cock and rocks her hips against me.
“I need to feel you. Make me come like this,” she says, then meets my gaze. Her eyes are soft, and she guides my hand to rub the tip of my cock against her clit again. “Please,” she pleads.
Her blue eyes are hooded, punch drunk on the need pulsing between us, and they bounce back and forth between mine. It about does me in and there is zero chance of me turning her down when she looks at me like this: all naked vulnerability, open and unguarded.
“You’re fucking killing me, California,” I groan, but start to move, blowing past all my second thoughts about whether or not this is a good idea.
Her eyes roll back, and I latch on to one of her tits, sucking hard while I work the metal of the piercing and the tip of my dick over her slippery, swollen clit.
I’m so fucking sensitive, I know I won’t last long, and luckily, she’s right there, too, because one second, she’s all quiet whimpers and heavy breathing, and the next she’s crying out, legs shaking, lips parted, head thrown back as she comes.
I follow right behind her, and with one final pass over her clit with my cock I’m unloading ropes of cum all over her pussy and decorating her thighs. I’m breathing so fucking hard it feels like I’ll never catch my breath. I slump forward, forehead to her chest, my softening cock resting on her thigh. I love the look of her soft red curls coated in my cum. A sort of caveman-like wave of satisfaction hits me and I know one—okay, two—times with my cock on her cunt isn’t going to be enough. A hundred times will never be enough. Only the feel of her wrapped around me will sate this hunger.
After a minute or two, I straighten up and grab a towel to clean her up. I’m still in my T-shirt, sweats around my knees, and she’s buck ass naked on the countertop. With our surroundings, we’re straight out of an 80s porno.
She lets me clean her up and then lets out a little laugh when I bend to pull up my sweats. “Fucking gray sweatpants.”
I cock a questioning brow at her, slipping my feet into my slides.
She waves a dismissive hand through the air and slides off the counter. I hand over her T-shirt, and she slips it over her head, covering her up from shoulders to mid-thigh. She’s gorgeous, all freshly finger fucked and glowing.
She starts to move past me, but I stop her with an arm on her bicep and tip up her chin with the other.
She stares up at me, eyes glassy, pulse point thundering in her neck.
I want to kiss her again so fucking badly, but something stops me. This isn’t the heat of the moment like all the other times. I search her face, not particularly sure what it is I’m looking for. For most people, sex is way more intimate than kissing. Even after what we shared, is there really a difference between kissing her during sex and after? I don’t really know, but it feels like there is, and I can’t bring myself to do it.
When I press my lips to her ear, she swallows, the sound audible in the sudden quiet. Her skin breaks out in goosebumps.
“I haven’t forgotten about your punishment,” I say. And yeah, I guess I’m fishing a little, wondering if this is really over before I’ve even gotten a chance to be inside her.
God, I suddenly hope not.
