Page 93 of The Best Part of Breaking Up

“Please don’t stop.”

“Such a horny girl,” he breathes. “How’d you know I want to hear you beg?”

He kisses his way to the other side, gently rolling the abandoned nipple between his fingers as he teases the other with his mouth. Pulsing heat pools between my legs. I grind against him.

“Ohmigod ...fuck… you…” I breathe.

“Fuck me?” He brushes his nose against mine, tipping my head back. “Oh baby, I’ve got so many more things to do before I fuck you."

I snag his bottom lip with my teeth, drawing his mouth against mine with the teasing invitation of my tongue, kissing him hard. He meets me with a strangled sound, angling my head so he can take more of me.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

“I want you so fucking much.” It feels almost as good to say it out loud as it does to have his hands all over me. He massages the ache between my thighs over the top of my underwear. I kiss him again.

He lifts me onto the side of the pool with torrents of water cascading down my body. His hand slides up my bare thighs, where my dress clings up around my hips, and he kisses the inside of my knee, higher. I can’t tell if it’s the night air or his mouth sending chills across my skin.

“You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?” he says. “Make you come out here where anybody could see us?”

Another burning ache twists through me. This man has no idea how badly I want him to make me come. When I feel him smile against my skin, I wonder if I said it out loud. He pushes my legs further apart with the press of his mouth on one thigh, then the other. I melt back onto the smooth tile and realize he’s right. I really would let him do this here. I’d let him do this anywhere.

For a second I think he’s going to do it – tug my clothes off and fuck me under the night sky – but instead he pulls himself out of the water with a flex of muscle. He hovers above me, stealing slow, sensual kisses. His need for me is obvious, straining against his wet trunks. We both seem to realize belatedly that I’m trembling. I can’t tell if it’s the fact that I’m soaked or the sheer insanity of this moment.

“Sorry. I haven’t done this in a while,” I admit between fervent kisses.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I haven’t either.”

“Perfect.”

“If I take you inside, can you be quiet?” he asks.

“Probably not,” I breathe.

“Good.”

He drags himself away and wraps us in the single towel he brought outside. Once it’s around my shoulders, he tugs my dress the rest of the way off, kissing me once before snagging my hand. Wordlessly, we creep into the dark house and sneak into our room. The chill of the air conditioning sends goosebumps over my skin. I feel like I’m holding my breath until the bedroom door clicks shut behind us. He turns on the small lamp, bathing us in warm light.

“I want to be able to see you,” he whispers. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” I smirk. “I want to see you too.”

As I let the towel slide to the floor, I catch his gaze roving down my body. His hands find my waist, mapping my outline as he kisses my wrists, my neck, claiming my mouth again. I work his wet trunks off as he tugs my panties down over my hips. He slides his fingers along my slick, swollen center. I try my best not to moan, kissing him harder as I wrap my hand around the thick length of him, and now it’s his turn to fight a moan. I rub the tip of him against me, up and down, until his knees almost buckle.

He grabs my wrists, guiding my hands above my head as he backs me against the wall. “You’re trying to skip ahead.”

“But it’s the best part,” I pout.

“We’ll see.” His voice spreads through me like liquid honey – warm and slow and sweet.

He kisses down my neck again, tugs a nipple between his teeth, lets his fingers play along my wet crease. My fingers thread into his hair, and I grind against his hand. I’ve gone delirious with pleasure, and I don’t exactly know when I started, but I’m stroking his hard length again, rubbing my thumb over the swollen tip, coaxing him against me. He pulls away, grabbing my wrists with a sultry smile.

“You are such a greedy girl,” he says. “Didn’t I tell you to wait?”

“I don’t want to wait,” I say teasingly. “And I’m pretty good at getting what I want.”

In a smooth motion he bends me over the dresser, twisting a hand into my damp hair. When he gently tugs, I can see our reflection in the mirror. My lips are parted, my pupils dilated, and he’s standing behind me with the muscles of his chest taut and his hands smoothing across my ass. I arch my back, wondering how far I have to shift before I can feel him against me.

“What am I going to do with you?” he says.

---