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“Does it?” I ask again.

“Wh-what?”

“When you touch yourself. Does it feel like this?”

She still doesn’t answer . . . Why would she not just tell me?

It’s hot, so fucking hot, to picture her lying on her dorm bed, legs spread and her small fingers teasing herself. She’d have to keep quiet because her roommate is asleep, but she would work herself to orgasm and cover her own mouth with one hand. Sometimes, when she comes hard, she may even bite down on her full lip and swallow her own gasps as she returns to reality. I need to know how she does it, but she’s still staring at me like I’ve grown an extra head. All I did was ask her about how she masturbates.

Oh.

It dawns on me that Little Miss Priss has never made herself come.

“Wait . . . you’ve never done that either, have you?” I ask. I continue to tease her, enjoying the pool of her arousal coating my finger. “You’re so responsive to me, so wet.”

She moans. The sound is fucking exquisite. I pay attention to her clit again and gently pinch before rolling it between my wet fingers.

“What? Was . . . that?” Tessa’s voice is nothing but a warm whisper, all resistance dissolved at my touch. I repeat the pleasurable pinch and roll while rubbing in small circles with my thumb. Tessa’s panting now, her legs are stiffening, and I know she’s close. So close. I can’t wait to watch her lose herself for me. I can’t believe she’s never felt the pure euphoria that comes with sex. Fuck, she’s been missing out.

Her back arches off the grass, lifting her tits closer to my face. Just one lick wouldn’t hurt.

Yes, it would. I would be distracted. I kiss her again, this time in earnest, claiming her and giving her exactly what she needs. I’m providing her with something she’s never felt before. She’s inching out of ordinary reality, and I’m the cause of it. My touch. Me.

I push my free hand into her bra, cupping a perfect breast. I massage it, letting her feel more than one sensation at a time. Her legs are shaking now.

“That’s right, Tessa, come for me,” I encourage her. Her lying on the grass, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, flushed cheeks, and her eyes . . . those eyes are fucking wild.

“Look at me, baby,” I beg, nipping at the flesh overflowing from her bra.

“Hardin,” she moans, her voice thick like paste, refusing to let me look away. She’s so sexy, so erotic, without even the slightest attempt at being so.

“Hardin . . .” She pulls me closer as she utters my name. She’s breathing so hard, trying to regain her composure.

“I’ll give you a minute to recover,” I say as I slowly draw my hand out of her panties. A slick trail of her orgasm is glistening on her stomach where my hand rests. She sighs, and I move my hand to my boxers to wipe them clean.

I’m so fucking hard right now I can barely see straight. She’s still lying here, her face looking like she just had the time of her life. She would like more, I know she would. Lord knows I would give it to her in a fucking heartbeat. Every part of me wants to slide inside of her. I want to hear her gasps and feel her tightness around me.

Not today. I can’t today. I stand to my feet and grab my jeans and shoes from the bank.

I can feel Tessa’s eyes on me as I get dressed again. “We’re leaving already?” Her voice is quiet, laced with uncertainty.

Does she want me to make her come again? Greedy now that she knows how incredible her body can feel.

“Yeah . . . You wanted to stay longer?”

“I just thought . . . I don’t know. I thought maybe you would want something . . .”

She looks humiliated. Why would she? Is she already regretting that she allowed me to make her come?

I should’ve known she would.

Tessa shifts her body, covering herself from me. She’s already trying to rush away from me. Wait, she said she thought I might want something . . .

“Oh, no. I’m okay.”

I would fucking love to have your warm tongue teasing the head of my cock right now, but it’s not part of this plan.

But instead of that, I add, “Not now,” to be sure she knows I’m going to thoroughly enjoy it when it does happen. Tessa nods and pulls her jeans over her legs and her shirt over her head.

Watching her get dressed messes with my head. I want to stroll over and undress her again. She shifts on her heels like she’s uncomfortable between her thighs. She shouldn’t be sore; I didn’t enter her at all. She’s probably not used to having a puddle of her own come there. The thought makes me laugh and turns me on so damn much at the same time.

“IS SOMETHING WRONG?” I ask Tessa in the car as I pull onto the gravel road. The sun has gone down slightly, and the air is growing wet. Rain is coming soon.

“I don’t know. Why are you being so weird now?”

Weird? How?

“I’m not, you are.”

“No, you haven’t said a word to me since . . . you know.” She’s too shy to be specific.

I say it for her. “Since I gave you your first orgasm?”

“Um, yeah. Since that, you haven’t said anything. You just got dressed and we left. It makes me feel like you’re using me or something.”

Using her? For what?

Oh, I am using her. Goddamnit.

But she doesn’t know that. It’s only her insecurity making her think that way.

“What? Of course I’m not using you. To use someone, I would have to be getting something out of it.” I half laugh.

When I look over at her, she isn’t laughing. Her eyes are red, and a single tear falls down her cheek. Fuck.

She’s crying?

“Are you crying? What did I say?” I don’t understand her. Why is she so emotional, and why does it make me feel so guilty? She takes everything I say and twists it into something rude. She thinks so little of me, and I can’t really blame her. She’s so sensitive.

“I didn’t mean it like that—I’m sorry. I’m not used to whatever is supposed to happen after messing around with someone, plus I wasn’t going to just drop you off at your room and have us go our separate ways. I thought maybe we could get some dinner or something? I’m sure you’re starving.” I squeeze her thigh with my hand. She smiles at me, and the ache in my chest calms tremendously.

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