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“I don’t know,” she answers truthfully. “And god, this is so humiliating.”
“It’s just me, Aves. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re two grown-ass adults. We can handle this. Here—” I remove the cloth from her forehead and set it on the back of the couch. Enforcing my own speech, I keep my hands steady as I unbutton the top of her blouse, letting her body breathe. “Do whatever you need to get through this. I’m here. Moral support.”
This makes her laugh, and I love the sound of it. Relief cuts through the tension. “Quinn, you’re the epitome of moral.” She takes my lead, undoing the rest of the buttons.
I bite back a groan as her lacy black bra makes an appearance, the sexy swell of her breasts capturing my attention. I should look away. That’s the moral thing to do, but I’m obviously a glutton for punishment myself.
My eyes trace the beautiful curves of her tits as she runs her hands over them. Then, because I’m not in enough torment, she arches up and unfastens the clasp, setting herself completely free. My cock takes this opportune moment to go fully erect, and when she pushes back against me, the greedy shit indulges in the feel of her ass.
Control. I’m in control. I mentally recite this mantra as I forcefully tear my gaze away from her breasts, which are now on full display. Seeing her peaked nipples, pink and soft—Jesus Christ. I’ve never envisioned Avery naked before—and I’m glad. It would’ve been a disservice.
She’s fucking breathtaking.
Her hands move lower only to halt at her belly button, and I stop breathing. “Undo my skirt,” she says, her breathy request about sending me over the edge.
Hell no. I lock my hands at my sides. “Aves…don’t ask me—”
“Please,” she breathes out. “I just need the stimulation. I’ll do all the work.”
Fucking hell. I crick my neck, working out the gathering tension. But there’s nothing to be done for the poor bastard in my pants. I’m already engorged and throbbing, and every subtle move Avery makes on top of me is a torturous tease to the sad fucker.
But this isn’t about me. This is about the woman in my arms, getting her through the pain, and I’m man enough to do that. At least, I damn well hope I am.
With a resigned groan, I flex my fingers, accepting my duty. I grip the button and give it a firm tug. It comes undone easily, and Avery bucks against me, arching her back and digging her ass into my groin.
My fingers nearly tear through the edges of the cushions as a jolt travels the length of my shaft. Only allowing myself a small thrust of the hips, I lift up; just enough to offset the overpowering need to bury myself inside her.
There’s just not enough time to recover. As she assured, Avery does the rest. I watch, paralyzed, as she pushes her skirt down, wriggling it all the way off her legs and kicking it to the floor. Her hands wander over her thighs as she brings her knees up and parts her legs.
Punch myself out—that’s my only option. Because there’s no damn way I’m going to survive this.
She’s going to fucking wreck me.
And as she tentatively roams her fingers over her lacy underwear, I all but lose my shit. She starts to push those down, too—and I grab her wrist.
“Those stay on,” I say, my tone gruff, commanding.
She must hear the desperation breaking into my voice, because her movements halt. The elastic band snaps her hip as she releases it, then she gracefully slips her fingers under the lace. Her sensual moan nearly unravels the last of my control.
As her hand expertly works beneath her underwear, I swear it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. She thrusts her hips as she speeds her pace, meeting her need with timed perfection.
I’ve become entranced by some kind of morbid fixation, where watching her get herself off becomes as necessary as taking my next breath. I’m a needy, greedy fuck, and I’m surely going to hell for this.
“More stimulation,” she begs. “I can’t…get there. It’s too much.” She lifts her hips, over and over, each time coming down harder on my cock. I know she feels the thick ridge of it digging into her backside, but hell, I can’t help myself.
I spear my fingers into my hair, losing all sense of control. “Avery, don’t ask me this. I won’t do anything that either of us will regret tomorrow. You can do this, Aves. Just relax.”
Her whine pierces my chest, and I’m right there with her. My damn cock aches so badly…if she continues to grind against me, I’ll fucking blow in my pants.
“Just a little more,” she says, her voice a sexy rasp. “Play with my tits.”
Holy fuck. That dirty talk coming from Avery’s sweet mouth is my undoing. My cock jumps, and I have to push back in order to keep from clutching her hips to me.
Jesus Christ, I know I’ll pay for this—but I reach for the ice-wrapped cloth and unravel it just the same, letting the cubes fall into my hand. As she arches her back, working her fingers deeper inside, I rest the tip of a cube to her nipple.
She gasps, undulating her hips hard and effectively bouncing her tits, getting the friction she craves from the ice. With measured breaths, I slowly swirl the cube around her nipple. I’m so fucking hard I’m going to have blue balls for a week.
“More,” she demands.
