Page 74 of A Not So Merry Rescue
Willa doesn’t answer, and when I face her, narrowed eyes greet me. “I think this is all a ploy for you to learn my clothing size.”
I shrug. “And?”
“And . . . 36C.”
“Panties preference?”
“Cheeky, boy shorts, thongs. Medium.” A flash of red coats her cheeks, but it doesn’t make residence there. She’s into this, which only makes getting to the dressing room more imperative.
“I’ll pick some out, you pick some out, too. Meet by the dressing room in the back left.” I point out the sign in case she’s confused. “Three minutes. Go.”
“Eep.” She drops my hand and rushes away to a table on the right. For about thirty seconds, I watch her, drinking her in, puffing my chest about being the lucky bastard who’s going to make her mine in five minutes.
Shaking out of my stupor, I flick through a rack of bras I think she’ll like based on the two I’ve seen her wear. I also pick out one I like. Black mesh with a red heart pattern. I don’t bother with the underwear. There will be time for her to choose more once the deed is done.
Adding one more to my stack, I walk to the back of the store. Willa’s already there, a stack of apparel in her hands. “Are you ready for this?”
She nods sheepishly, her fingers kneading her left ear. “I’m nervously excited. I love that we could get caught, but no one knows me here, so who cares, right?”
“Exactly. It’s a great temptation.”
We step up to the attendant, who opens up a room for her. If she’s appalled I follow her in, she doesn’t show it. Inside, I flip the lock. The space isn’t big, but it’s enough for what we need. Stacking the clothes on the bench, I unbutton my pants, pushing them to my knees.
“Not wasting any time,” Willa notes.
“You said we had to be quick.”
While she removes her undies and leggings, I fish a condom out of her purse and sheath myself.
“No foreplay?” she muses softly, a teasing lilt in her tone.
“Come here.” I motion to my lap. With her legs free from restraints, she kneels with widened legs on the bench, straddling my thighs, her ass hovering above my knees. I swipe one finger through her slit, my finger covered in wetness. “Foreplay, my ass.” With gentle fingers, I grip her hips, lifting her up and positioning her above my hardened cock. “Stroke me once.” My words are a growl, a whispered demand.
“I don’t think I can be quiet,” she admits, her voice barely audible.
“If you want me to buy you a gift, we can’t be kicked out. Do your best.”
Hormones surge through me. With her poised above my dick, coupled with the clandestine location, the need for release is palpable.
“Sink down. I won’t last long. I’ll make it up to you later.”
Our gazes lock, hunger and devotion swimming in the kaleidoscope of colors. How did I get so lucky with this girl? Even temporarily, I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.
“It’s not like we have unlimited time right now, but this is already super hot. I’m so keyed up, I don’t care if you come with one thrust.”
“That’s about what it will be.”
She plants her hands on my shoulder as she sinks onto my dick. “Fuckkkkk,” she stretches out, an inaudible moan accompanying it. “Move, Beckett. Please.”
“You gotta move, babe. Have you never been a cowgirl?”
“No.”
There’s so much to unpack in the one word and her expression, but now’s not the time. We’ll come back to that after, but we’re definitely coming back to it.
“Up and down. Ride me. I’ll hold your hips.” I widen my legs, making sure my feet are grounded. “Keep your hands on my shoulders, eyes on me.” I encourage her to lift two inches. Before I can instruct otherwise, she lowers back down, squeezing my dick. “That’s it. Use me to get yourself off. I’ll follow.”
Soon, she finds a rhythm, bouncing up and down, her fingertips digging into my flesh, creating a good kind of pain and pleasure. Each time she’s down, her walls clamp tighter around my cock.
