CHAPTEREIGHT
Ben
This is wrong, this is wrong, a voice roars inside of me. Stop now. You can’t do this.
But the voice feels faraway, receding into the distance, barely even audible as I open my mouth and guide my tongue to Becca’s.
She gasps, the noise muffled, and then her tongue responds. It’s slow, shy, just like her, but then she starts to get into it.
I snarl and smooth my hands from her shoulders, down her back, toward the heaving beauty of her ass. Her moans become more urgent as I squeeze down, greedily caressing, driving forward with my hips so she can feel how wild she’s making me.
My cock is pulsing, my balls heavy, my seed rioting with the need to be inside her young body. Her ass is truly incredible, so plump, so curvy.
I could massage her round globes for hours and hours and never lose my hungry compulsion.
I snarl as her tongue begins to seek mine out, the tips flaring together, the tingling lust dancing between us.
My mind floods with all the other kisses we’ll share – after I propose, then at the altar, in the kitchen after a meal, an everyday household scene.
Life.
That’s when we’ll kiss, from now on. Any time we’re sharing a life together, which is going to be every second, every day.
My hand moves automatically to her hip and then around to her stomach, down toward her sex. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, nothing overtly sexy, but she could wear anything, and she’d still make me feral.
I tease at the edges of the denim, my fingers going to the button. I’m sure I can feel the heat of her young, excitable sex, as though she’s silently screaming at me to push down, to cup her soaked slit and rub until she’s shaking and begging for more.
But then she breaks the kiss, panting as she places her hand on my chest.
“Wait,” she whispers.
I stare down, my hand becoming still. But my heartbeat can’t. It shatters in my chest, over and over, a frenetic hammering that roars at me to keep going.
Then it hits me.
Where we are.
I didn’t even think of it before.
Taking a step back, I nod. “You’re right. We can’t do this here.”
But then I see her eyes go wide as though she has no clue what I’m talking about. She looks around the hallway, her face dropping.
“Oh, Jesus. I didn’t even think of that. Our first kiss was in Alex’s apartment. What the heck are we doing?”
Our first kiss. I like the sound of that, but I don’t tell her, can’t tell her considering the circumstances. It will only drive the guilt deeper.
Plus, curiosity is twisting through me.
“What were you going to say, then?” I ask.
She glances over her shoulder at the door. “I should go. Mom and Dad are waiting.”
I remember what she said about returning in two months. The time has never felt so long. My stomach sinks at the mere thought of it.
Reaching forward, I touch her flushed cheeks, directing her gaze to me. Her hair is down, messy around her shoulders, making me want to run my hands through it. But that will lead to more kissing, to more touching, and she clearly has something she needs to say.
“Tell me, Becca,” I say firmly.