“The second. Please.” Fucking obviously.
Without waiting for her to respond again, I get on the bed.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she replies. “I’m going to take these off now, okay?” Linking a finger into each side of her panties, she tugs suggestively, her eyes locked on mine.
I lick my lips and nod.
That’s the only affirmation she needs before slipping them off, inch by inch. Once they’re gone, she smiles as I steal a glimpse of her pussy. Pink and pretty, with neatly trimmed black curls.
Before I can focus on that image for too long, she lies down next to me, rolling over so she’s half on my body.
“Hey,” I say, like the doofus I am.
She smirks. “Hey there.”
Mercifully keeping me from saying more, her mouth approaches mine, and I bring my hand to cup her face. The kiss is immediately deep, our tongues connecting.
I’m grateful that we restarted at that slower pace earlier, because this feels more naturally charged. Hot, but intimate too.
Avery shifts slightly, and—oh fuck, she starts rubbing her bare pussy against my leg.
Needy much, Avie?
Slotting my hand in between our bodies, I glide it down along the smooth skin of her stomach to those curls until I reach the soft wetness of the top of her pussy.
“Yes,” she says breathily between kisses. She stops rocking against my hip, and arches instead to meet my hand.
“You’re so wet for me already,” I observe, as much to myself as her.
“Touch me.”
On that instruction, I move my fingers on her more purposefully. Searching for what she likes, I soon find out—she huffs out as I reach the nub of her clit.
“Yeah, that’s so…that.” She stops talking, closing her eyes as I double down on the speed my fingers are working her.
Our kissing has stopped as she focuses on the sensations of our other contact, but whatever.
“I want to hear how you sound when I make you come, Avie.”
It’s not a line; I’m dying to bank that memory.
I don’t need to wait long, and when she reaches her peak, she grips my forearm in a way that will definitely leave a mark.
But I don’t give a shit, because her moans are my goal.
She takes a few moments to come down, shaking, still half on top of my body. My dick is painfully hard, but he’s going to have to wait—we haven’t even claimed the prize from our bet.
She kisses my pec, before resting her chin on my chest, looking up at me.
“We got off track.”
I chuckle. “I don’t mind.”
“A bet is a bet,” she repeats from our earlier exchanges. Before I know what’s happening, she’s reaching underneath my shorts and boxers, her hand firmly around my dick. “He doesn’t seem to mind either.”
All of my senses are immediately attuned to where she’s grasping me. “Fuck.”
“Let’s stay off track.” She grins, sliding along my torso and pushing my clothes down my legs.
