Am I seriously fantasizing about fucking the back of a woman's knee?
Yeah. I really fucking am. And I can’t even find it in me to be ashamed, because as soon as I finished fucking the back of her knee, I’d fuck the inside of her elbow. Then between her tits. I want to fuck every part of her I can. Cover her in my cum and rub it into her smooth, satiny skin.
I might be a little freakier than I've given myself credit for.
Thankfully, Ruth is completely oblivious to my probably unhinged desires regarding what most people would consider the uninteresting parts of her body. She is, however, very aware of my dick rubbing between her thighs, because the noises coming out of her sound a hell of a lot like a woman who's about to come.
I don't think I've ever gotten a woman off like this. Probably because I don't spend a lot of time with women where we both have our clothes on. But while I'm out of my mind in a lot of ways, I still seem to be holding tight to the knowledge that I cannot actually fuck Ruth. Not for real. I probably shouldn't fuck the back of her knee or her elbow either. Definitely not between her tits.
I probably shouldn't be fake fucking her the way I am now. Doesn’t mean I'm not gonna stop. It's way too late for that. Now that I know there's a chance I could get to see her come, Ruth is the only thing that could put a stop to the direction I'm headed.
But I really fucking hope she doesn’t stop me, because the desperation I feel over getting to watch her pretty face as she comes undone is consuming.
Ruth drags her lips away from mine, gasping for air. “Tucker.” My name is ragged as she says it. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to—” she makes a strangled sound as I put a little more purpose and thought into the next shift of my hips.
I can’t help but smirk. “Good.” Hooking one hand behind the knee I am abnormally obsessed with, I bring it up and out, giving me a little more room to work. “You deserve to come. You did so good for me tonight.”
Maybe that’s all this is. I simply feel the need to reward Ruth for helping me. For making sure my mother doesn’t set her sights on me next. I’m simply giving her a gold star orgasm. That’s it.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ruthless.” There’s truth in my words. Maybe a little too much of it. Becausethinking about Ruth leaving—and she will leave—isn’t easy to stomach.
So I don’t think about it. I think about her elbow and the back of her knee and her tits and the way she rolls her eyes when I tease her and the little frown she makes when she’s thinking hard.
The way she kissed me after dinner.
“Tucker.” Ruth’s fingers dig into my shoulders, her body going tight beneath mine.
I can’t look away from her face as she writhes and shudders, coming as I continue rocking against her, doing my best to stretch this moment out as long as I can.
Because I’m pretty sure she’s gonna overthink this when it’s over.
And I’m right.
The second the haze has cleared her eyes, Ruth is wriggling out from under me, gaze averted as she mumbles something about checking on Birdie before practically running upstairs.
Part of me wonders if I should apologize. Tell her it was a mistake that won’t happen again.
But I’m not sorry. And it wasn’t a mistake.
In fact, it might just happen again. Because Ruth is going to keep helping me, and I’d be an asshole not to show her my appreciation.
I’m many things, but an asshole isn’t one of them.
I am sporting a raging hard on, though, and since I don’t see it going away on its own, I turn off all the lights and make my way to my bedroom.
To think a little more about the back of Ruth’s knee.
20
Ruth
What is wrong with me? Why in the world did I think it would be a good idea to roll around with Tucker Bradshaw?
Actually, I didn’t think it was a good idea. At the moment, I believed it was thebestidea. The only idea.
I do have to admit, it wasn't the worst idea. I really needed to burn off some steam, and it turns out Tucker is really good at burning off steam.
But now what?
