I run my thumb along the soft creases of her palm, then trace the slim bones on the back of her hand. My blood starts a slow simmer and pools hotly in my dick. Becca doesn’t have to do anything but be near me, and I’m horny as a rutting dog.
I stop the Maserati, and we walk inside her house together. My hand feels empty, and I clench and unclench it. Becca puts Margaret’s Tupperware in the fridge, and I move closer, ready to claim the mouth that’s been driving me crazy.
“Thank you,” she says.
The soft words stop me for a moment. “For what?”
“For not embarrassing me.”
I look at her. “Not embarrassing you is kind of a given.”
“It should be. But I can’t always count on it.”
“You must’ve dated some booby-prize guys.” I’m annoyed nobody’s appreciated her the way she deserves but, at the same time, relieved nobody was so good to her that she’s still pining over them. Don’t want to be competing with some perfect ex-boyfriend. That would be as
annoying as dealing with my dad’s idealized future with me as a Harvard cardiologist. Ugh. No.
I don’t want her gratitude or to think about my shitty dad. I want to give in to the need that’s been thrumming in my blood all evening. I draw her close and dip my head for a kiss. Her lips are so damn soft, so damn sweet. I lick them and feel them part, an electric sizzle zinging along my spine.
She lets out a sound, low and heavy with desire. Lust ripples through me; I wrap my arms around her, my hands on her ass. I push her against the fridge, our mouths still fused. The scent of her, all that ripe pear and perfect rum, is intoxicating, intensifying my craving for her. I feel like she’s a tempting fruit God created just for me.
Her hands clench around my shoulders. I groan at the possessive way she holds on to me, then devour her. Normally it’s annoying when women act like they own a piece of me, but with Becca, it’s hot. Something in my gut says my reaction is significant, but I ignore it. What’s important is that my dick’s hard enough to drive a nail through an oak door, and Becca’s the one doing that to me.
I shift, adjusting so that we’re fitted better, and notice that the window curtains are pulled back.
Shit.
It’s small town, so I doubt an army of paparazzi is crouched outside filming us. And even if there were, most of the time I wouldn’t care if some photographer took a picture of me fondling some girl. But not Becca. I don’t want anybody to see Becca shuddering with need. She’s…
Well… She’s too good for some tabloid.
I scoop her into my arms and carry her like a princess upstairs to our bedroom. The bed’s unmade and the sheets are pink, but I don’t care. They have her scent, and that makes the whole thing even more erotic.
I lay her down on the mattress. After turning on the small bedside lamp, I kiss her while undressing her. She sinks her fingers into my hair and eagerly starts placing little kisses all along my jaw line. Knowing I’m not the only one lost in us sends another wave of need over me, until every nerve in my body is tingling with energy.
When her clothes have been properly strewn around the room, I bury my face in the crook of her neck, where her pulse races against my lips. I lick the spot, feel the breath hitch inside her.
“Take off your clothes,” she says breathlessly. “I want to see you, too.”
Don’t need to tell me twice. I get naked rapidly. Her gaze glitters with want, and my dick reacts to that by becoming even harder, until I feel dizzy with the need to bury myself deep inside her.
But not yet. I want to make her tremble with pleasure, clutch me like I’m the only thing worth holding on to in the world and sob my name out in passion.
I return to her, placing kisses on her skin like marks of possession. I taste her, the flavor of sweet female driving me crazy. Her hands move restlessly along my neck and the back of my head. I look at her gorgeous breasts, then cup one in my hand, enjoying the tender weight of it, how it fits in my palm. I suck on the other one, rolling the hard tip in my mouth. Her back arches, air catching in her throat. She moans, the sound low, and holy fuck, it’s as physical as being stroked.
I lavish both breasts with loving attention, the way they deserve. I shower her soft belly with kisses. As I move lower and lower, the sweet, heady scent of her is growing stronger, making my mouth water. I run a finger along her pink folds, feeling them slick and hot. I place the tip of my tongue on her clit, feel it pulse and throb against me.
“Oh my God…” She moans, her fingers digging into my hair, holding on to me.
Sucking and licking, I stimulate her with my finger. The strangled sound she makes is better than an angels’ chorus. She’s so turned on, my fingers are drenched. Her belly flutters with every breath, and her thigh muscles tighten. She’s close…
I add another finger and give her a good, hard thrust to push her over the edge. Feel her spasm, hear her sob out her pleasure.
My dick’s so hard, it’s ready to snap. Unable to wait, I put on a condom and place her ankles over my shoulders, opening her wide before me. Her pink, glistening flesh is swollen, and my vision blurs with need.
I drive into her. Her hot depths envelop me, and I swear my eyes are rolling back with blinding pleasure.
And I haven’t really started moving yet.