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And I guess at one point, my gravity shifted a little and I felt buttery leather at my back.
Which is when I suspect it must have happened.
Us landing on the couch, with him on top of me.
And now this…
Thisnonsenseabout stopping.
His tanned skin looks flushed, his cut cheekbones scarlet. “We need to stop.”
“Why?” I ask, curling my fingers and realizing somehow my hands have ended up on his shoulders, fisting his shirt. So I loosen them, slide them down and splay my palms wide on his back.
To feel the twitching muscles beneath.
I also move my thighs and my legs and realize that I have them wrapped around his hips still, with my heels digging into the backs of his jean-covered thighs. So I put them to work too and feel all the hard ridges, the dense muscles. And I can’t believe I’m saying this but I have to say it: I think we’re perfect for each other.
He’s as hard as I am soft. He’s as tan as I am pale. And he’s as bold and confident as I am shy and hesitant.
So, perfect.
“Because I’ve already gone too far,” he says, his eyes all lust-blown and lips kiss-bitten.
Finishing my exploration of his back —for now — I go to his face. I cup his hard cheek, his square jaw, feel his stubble on my fingertips as I say, “But we’ve only just kissed.”
“Yeah, and that’s enough,” he states, his tone lashing, and then he tries to get up and away from me.
But I tighten my legs around him, dig my fingers into his cheeks to keep him in place.
And he freezes.
I freeze too.
Because instead of keeping him in place, my movements have caused him to come closer to me. My movements have lodged him even deeper and tighter between my spread thighs, and gosh, I feel it.
I feelitpressing up against me, my pelvis.
And it’s hard.
Also big.
It’s big and hard and oh my God, I never expected it to be so big and this hard.
“I… It…” I breathe out.
He grinds his teeth, telling me he knows what I mean, what Ifeelrubbing up against me. “Yeah. Which is why we need to stop.”
“I want it.”
“What?”
I’ve come to a conclusion just now: I’ve lost my mind.
I’ve lost all my good sense. All my practical sense.
All my manners and politeness.
And I don’t care.
