Page 56 of The Monster and the Masochist

The hand that’d been tracing sinfully teasing circles across my abs slid further up my t-shirt, and I wasn’t sure which one of us gasped as she cupped my breast over my sports bra.

“Fuck…” I hissed into her mouth as she seemed to instinctively find the tip of my nipple.

Oh my fucking goooddd…

She rolled the peak firmly between the tips of her fingers, and I suddenly regretted putting a bra on at all.

I moaned, and she took that as an invitation to shove her hot, wet tongue directly into my mouth.

The taste of her flooded me, and I was amazed to learn that she did taste like vanilla. Vanilla and sex and something safe and warm.

Something like home.

My hands were suddenly wandering, and I couldn’t have stopped them if I tried. One hand sank into her thick dark hair, and I curled my fingers into her roots, pressing her closer so I could suck her tongue deeper into my mouth like I’d dreamed of doing since the day I’d met her.

It was her turn to moan, and to my delight, she rolled her perfect hips into mine, almost as if she couldn’t control the movement.

She was still in her skirt and blouse from work, and the skirt had ridden up to bunch at her waist. When my left hand found her thigh, I skated my palm up until my thumb brushed the edge of what felt like a lace thong.

She whimpered as I lightly stroked that sexy crease between her thigh and her pussy, and the sound sent me into fucking orbit.

My eyes rolled back in my head as she nipped and bit at my lips, her body grinding almost helplessly down into mine, and I hated that I couldn’t feel the lace of her panties through my shorts.

She pinched my nipple again, and I hissed as heat pooled between my thighs at an alarming rate.

I was suddenly more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. Every roll of her hips seemed to rock directly against my clit, and I realized with a start that if I didn’t shift her position, I was going to literally come just from letting her dry hump me like some needy teenager.

No. I couldn’t let it end yet.

If it ended, it might never happen again… I’d waited so long to feel what it would be like to have Cassandra in my arms like this. I wasn’t ready for it to be over.

Dropping my hands to her hips, I shifted her with a jerk. She gasped as our lips broke apart, and I smirked as she let out the most adorable little growl in protest.

“Shh, you’re alright,” I soothed her as I settled her back down, this time so she was straddling my thigh.

Taking advantage of this new position to feel as much of her as I could, I tugged up the hem of my shorts until that scrap of hot, damp lace connected directly with the flesh of my thigh.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as I gently used my hands on her hips to encourage her to continue grinding herself on me.

My gaze fell to her lace-covered pussy like a magnet, and I groaned as I realized they were white, and I could literally see just how soaked they were.

“Jesus, Cassandra…” I rasped, guiding her hips into a slow, lazy rocking motion. “So fucking wet for me…”

“Theo…” she whined, and I glanced up at her, searching her face for any indication that she was uncomfortable or having second thoughts. All I saw was dark, lust-drunk eyes rimmed in long, gorgeous lashes.

“So fucking beautiful,” I hummed, sliding my thumbs closer to the pretty creases marking each side of her pussy.

I wanted to rip that scrap of lace off her.

I wanted to drive my fingers deep inside her and fuck her until she screamed for me.

I wanted to make her come so hard she would never want anyone but me to ever touch her again.

It took every ounce of restraint I had to keep my hands where they were. She hadn’t even been able to admit that she might be queer. I wasn’t about to push her too far too fast.

But fuck did I ever want to.

“Theo…” she moaned again, dropping her hands to my shoulders and using my body as leverage so she could rub herself harder against my thigh.