Page 55 of The Auction
He just sat up, legs spread in a relaxed V, hand out of his pants. Instead, he rested both hands on the couch cushions on either side of him.
“What?” I prompted him.
He shook his head. “Come over here.”
I shuffled a few steps in his direction. “Like I have to sit on you? You can’t just stand and do the deed?”
He shook his head and I stepped between his legs. Then he wrapped his hands around my waist and brought me forward until my knees were on the couch. He shifted them to either side of his hips, while my ass was resting against his knees and my hands were loosely resting on his shoulders.
His head turned toward the TV as they announced heavy rain expected by the end of the week. He was worried about crops getting washed out, which was a thing, but it didn’t happen too often.
“You want to watch the weather girl or you want to suck face?” I asked him.
He grimaced. “No one calls it sucking face.”
“I heard it. Once.”
“Stop,” he said, then lifted the remote to turn off the TV. The silence was a little too loud. All I could hear was my breathing. I was about to ask him to turn it on again, but he had his big palm wrapped around the back of my neck. He tugged me toward him, and having zero idea what to do next, I smashed my mouth up against his.
Hard. I felt his teeth. I felt my teeth.
His hand tugged on my hair, pulling my head back.
He sighed. Like one of those disappointed sighs.
“That sucked,” I said, before he could.
“You’ve never kissed anyone.”
Untrue. I used to kiss Margo on her nose all the time. Also my pillow. Also the back of my hand.
“Do nothing,” he said. “Yeah? Just let me fucking…”
His hand on the back of my head tugged again and I was moving towards him, but under his strength, not mine.
Then he was touching his mouth to mine. Gently. His lips over my lips, against my lips, in between my lips. Like maybe a million times, until it was easy. Lips pressingagainst lips until his lips opened. I could feel the heat of his breath, the swipe of tongue which immediately sent this zing of heat down to my pussy.
“Open your mouth,” he said.
I did. I knew what was supposed to happen. I’d seen enough movies, even the few Herb let me watch had some kissing. He was going to put his tongue in my mouth. Which conceptually should have been a turn off, but in reality, it wasn’t.
I was straddling his hips, sitting on his knees and he was kissing me. Like full on French style. Over and over again. One hand in my hair, one on my back. He wasn’t pulling me against him, but those fingers that pushed against my spine, signaled he wanted to. He backed off and let me breathe for a second, two, then he was kissing me again. His tongue deeper inside, consuming. I pushed my tongue back against his and he groaned. Then he was sucking on my bottom lip, my top one.
I wanted to rip my shirt off. I wanted his hands to touch me. My breasts felt so full, like I’d gone from a B cup to a D cup in seconds. I was agitated and hot and I kept going back for more of his mouth.
“Fuck,” breathed.
I found his wrist behind my back and wrapped my hand around it, trying to drag it to my breasts. To relieve that crazy ache.
“Stop,” he said, pulling away again. Only I wasn’t listening. I chased his mouth down even as he turned his head to the side. “Jules!” he barked.
That got my attention.
“We stop now,” he said, his grip in my hair tighter.
“Are you for real right now?” I could hear the sound ofmy voice. It was husky as hell. “We just started. I don’t want to stop.”
He closed his eyes for a second like something hurt and when he opened them his shark gaze was back.
