Page 91 of I Never Stopped Loving You

“Fuck the couch. I’ve never liked it anyway.”

I get closer, and her hand grabs the can and tries to turn it at me. The nozzle is pressed, and a spray of compressed cream shoots upward, hitting me in the face, with some splashing down on her.

While she’s distracted by the splatters of cream that landed on her face, I quickly turn the can and spray a big dollop on the side of her neck and cheek.

“Noah. Oh my God,” she laughs.

She tries to fight me for the can again, but I won’t let her win. She manages to wiggle up the seat of the couch toward the other end and out from beneath my legs. I drop the can to grab her hips to pull her back beneath me, but she manages to wrap her legs around my waist and pull me against her.

My cock is painfully hard at this point, and there’s no hiding it. The way she’s pulling me between her legs, she most definitely can feel it. She glances down at the bulge in my sweatpants, then back up at me with that devilish smirk.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Anderson?” she practically purrs my name.

Her legs tighten as she grinds her core against me. Her shallow gasp lets me know it rubbed in just the right spot. Damn it. She’s so tempting. So fucking perfect. I don’t want to rush things with her, but at the same time…Fuuuuck do I want her now.

“Actually, there is, Miss Bennett. You’re overdressed, and have something on you. Here, let me get that for you.”

I lean down, grab her wrists with one hand, pinning them above her head, and grind myself against her as I lick the cream off her neck. Her breath catches in her throat as I continue to lick and suck where the sweet cream can still be tasted on her skin.

“Noah,” she whimpers my name as she shamelessly writhes beneath me to get some friction.

“That’s Mr. Anderson,” I groan as I bite gently on the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Fuck…Mister…Anderson,” she says between breathy pants as I continue to add pressure against her clit through the clothes.

Why the hell is this so fucking hot? I’ve never just played around like this before. I guess this would be like what? Foreplay? All I’ve ever done was fucked. No handsy shit, no foreplay. Just in and out, done. The only other thing I’ve done similar to this was with Angela at the haunted asylum last month, but that felt forced. This feels natural. Like we’re just playing, but it also feels like so much more.

I still have her wrists pinned with one hand, so I use the other to start lifting the hoodie, exposing her bare torso and breasts. Fucking hell, even her tits are perfect. Those hard nipples, just begging to be bitten.

“Mr. Anderson, please,” she whines as she looks up at me.

“Don’t worry, Miss Bennett. I’ll take care of you,” I say with one last kiss to her neck.

I lift her into a sitting position, pull the hoodie the rest of the way off, then toss it across the room. She watches it land near the fireplace, then looks back up at me. Those green eyes are now burning with desire.

The house is warm, but I can still see the goosebumps pebbling her bare skin since the only thing she’s wearing are my boxers. Her pale skin looks so good against the dark couch. I wasn’t lying earlier, I hate this couch. It’s a bitch to clean, especially when I’ve gotten blood on it before, but now it’s going to be one of my favorite pieces of furniture in this house.

I slowly shift lower with my fingers in the waistband of the boxers. She eyes me closely as I begin to pull them down, but then I stop. She tilts her head, confused, before realizing I’m waiting for her permission on this one. She was the one who said we couldn’t date, kiss, or anything more, and this is so much more.

She nods with a shy smile on her lips, and my heart rate picks up. I continue to slide the boxers lower, and she lifts her hips, allowing them to fully slide down over her plump thighs that I can’t wait to bury myself between. She relaxes back down on the couch and lifts her legs to let me pull them fully off. They’re flung across the room to join the hoodie, causing her to laugh.

My eyes travel over every inch of her amazing body, and I’m speechless. She’s got perfect curves. Thick hips to grab onto, plump thighs I want to have wrapped around my head, and breasts that fill my hands and then some.

“Fuck, Willow. You’re magnificent.”

Her eyes soften as she looks up at me. She doesn’t understand how much this moment means to me. How much she means to me. I want to tell her everything, and almost did last night. If she hadn’t already fallen asleep, I would have.

“Noah.”

She sits up and wraps her arms around my neck. Her legs wrap around my waist, and she pulls my lips closer to hers. I feel like I can hardly breathe. Time seems to freeze around us, our hearts both racing as our lips get closer.

“Kiss me,” she whispers against my lips, and the rest of the world fades away.

She pulls me back down to the couch on top of her. I’m still wearing my sweatpants, but she doesn’t care. She tightens her legs around my waist as I roll my hips, grinding myself against her. My hand slips between us to find her clit, and her body arches the second I tease my thumb against it.

“Fuck,” I hiss when I find out just how aroused she already is.

How long has she been this turned on? Since we kissed in the kitchen, or longer?