Page 25 of Crave

He’s staring at me, caught out in the moment, and for once he isn’t glaring. There’s a look of such raw longing on his face that I feel it through my whole body.

Right now, he’s not some disapproving guy. He’s naked, vulnerable. Carrying a heavy load. Something drove him here, and he doesn’t know whether to escape it or deal with it.

I look away quickly, trying to return to the peace, but all I can think about is him.

That night after lights-out, I tiptoe down the hall until I spot a door that’s ajar. Somehow, I know.

I push it open just far enough to see him sitting on his bed. The window’s open, and moonlight illuminates his beautiful face and body. He’s shirtless.

His face changes when he sees me.

“You,” he whispers.

The shock of hearing someone speak for the first time in three days — of hearinghisdeep voice — tightens my body. I go to him, more boldly than I would approach a stranger in the outside world, and put my finger to his lips.

He catches my hand in both of his. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Sshhh.” I cup his cheek and gasp when he licks my palm.

Pulled in by mindless attraction, I straddle this stranger and perch on his thighs. I stroke his broad back and shoulders, daring to suck on his neck. His skin is so warm. Salty.

He sinks his fingers into my curls, his touch unbelievably pleasurable, then twists my hair harder and harder, encouraged by my quickening breath, until I let out a little cry.

When he kisses my lips, it’s sudden and taking. Quick, short, rough kisses, hard and abrupt. I’ve never been kissed like that. I shiver, sinking down on his lap until I nudge the large bulge in his shorts.

“You’re so hot,” he pants between kisses. “You’re so irritating. I can’t think—”

“Ssh, ssh, shh,” I soothe, sliding my hands over the heat of his bare chest. I won’t let him goad me into talking.

He groans when I stroke his nipples. I crouch to taste one, swirling my tongue over the tiny hard nub. His fist tightens in my hair.

“I want to see you,” he whispers. “I want to see your body.”

I straighten, lift the hem of my nightgown to my waist, and nod at him in the moonlight. He gets the hint, pulling the sheer fabric quickly over my head.

“Beautiful,” he hisses, staring at my freckled shoulders, my breasts, the smooth expanse of my stomach.

In a second, my breasts are in his hands. I stifle my whimpers on his hard shoulder as he squeezes and caresses the soft curves, pinching my puffy nipples until tears spring to my eyes.

“Tell me what you want.” He lifts my chin in his hand. His dark hair falls over his forehead, his face half-shadowed in the moonlight. “Talk to me.”

I pull his palm back to my breast and clasp it tightly, thrusting my yielding flesh into his grasp, letting him know that I want more force. When he responds, I hug him tight, biting my lip to keep quiet.

“I’m going to make you scream.” His whisper jerks my head up from his shoulder. “I know you’ve been dying to. You can’t help but make noise.”

I shake my head firmly and kiss his mouth before he can tempt me with more words. All I’m wearing are my panties, and they’re soaked with excitement. I grind against the thick stem of his cock, shaking with arousal, hoping that I’m getting his shorts wet too.

He breaks the kiss forcefully, which just gets me more excited.

“Lie down.” It’s meant as an order, but it comes out a plea. His deep voice cracks.

Instead, I trail kisses over his jaw and stroke the firm planes of his back. As much as I want his force, I also want to take care of him. He shudders under my touch and groans when my hand slides down the front of his shorts to cup his hard, hard cock.

I barely have the chance to give him a squeeze before my wrists are caught in his grip. When I make a noise of excitement, he groans again.

“Lie down, baby,” he repeats softly.

He needs me to. I see that longing on his face, and it twines around my body, binding me close. I’m aroused and nervous because I’m suddenly very aware that this man is a stranger, and what exactly does he want to do with me?

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