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I must be going crazy.
I mean, I can’t believe I’m kissing Madden right now, not even a day after what happened between Tristan and I. What the hell am I doing?
You’re doing what you want to do, I hear a little voice inside of me say, the exact same voice that used to get me into trouble when I was younger.
Oh, well.
“These lips…” Madden whispers, pulling back from me and offering me one of his half-cocky, half-gentle smiles.
“What about my lips?” I ask him, my heart hammering inside my chest. I can’t stop this, can I? It’s just the two of us inside this limo, and the mood is more than appropriate.
“They’re perfect… I could spend the day just kissing them,” he continues, never taking his eyes off my lips as he keeps that dazed smile on face.
“Then why don’t you?” I tease him, placing one hand on his chest and grabbing his shirt; I pull him into me fast, our mouths in a collision course. My eyelids droop, my heart pounds against my chest faster, and then we’re back to kissing.
He might have been the one complimenting my lips, but I kinda feel the same. Madden just has these kinds of lips that leave a woman always wanting more. And, more than having a perfect set of lips, he knows how to use them.
Oh, God, why do these two men have be so perfect? This whole game would be so much easier if I had to date fat balding billionaires. At least that way there’d be no way I’d allow my wet pussy to ruin my chances. Because, right now, I’m not so sure if I know what I’m doing. I mean, I managed to hold my own with Tristan, but I feel that my self-control is being chipped away little by little.
And the more my lips remain pressed against Madden’s, the more I feel that self-control fading away.
“Do you know what you did with this kiss?” He asks me suddenly, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes.
“What?” I ask him, and he replies by curling his fingers around my wrist and taking my hand to his crotch. I widen my eyes, surprised, but I don’t even have time to react. I just let him do it, feeling the way his hard cock is tenting the fabric of his pants. Oh, God, and he’s as big Tristan.
“This is on you,” he continues in that same tone, a tone that tells me that I’m in trouble. The good kind of trouble, I mean.
“You wish,” I laugh, my tone changing to match his brashness. “You won’t get that on me,” I continue but, at the same time, I curl my fingers around his thickness, my heart skipping a beat as I realize how truly big his cock is.
“We’ll see about that,” he shoots back at me without thinking, and once again I feel that urge inside to simply throw all caution to the wind and surrender to his charms. Lucky for me, that rational part of me never sleeps, and it stops me from doing any real damage.
At least so far.
“We’ll see,” I repeat, and I tighten my grip on his cock so hard that he groans, the sound of his voice caressing my eardrums and making my brain enter overdrive mode.
“Come here,” he says out of the blue, turning to me and grabbing me by the hips. He then pulls me up and into him and I react without thinking twice, opening my legs and straddling him. The hemline of my dress hikes up a few inches as I do it, I notice his eyes darting to my crotch, probably seeing a hint of my red lace thong.
“Well, I’m here,” I laugh, running my tongue over my lips, wetting them as I run my fingers through his hair, disheveling. Grabbing it, I then force him to raise his head and look into my eyes. “You’re not going to fuck me,” I find myself saying, that rational side of me issuing one last warning to both Madden and I before it shuts down. In truth, I’m saying this more because of me than because of him. It’d be so easy to give in, you know?
“There’s life beyond fucking, Megan,” Madden shoots back, his voice never losing that confident tone that makes my insides burn.
“I can
’t believe I’m hearing that from you,” I laugh, slightly bucking my hips at him and pressing my crotch against his. I purse my lips the moment I do it, immediately feeling his tree trunk of a cock against my increasingly drenched thong.
“Oh, please. I can control myself,” he laughs back at me, and I can’t tell if he’s being honest right now or if he’s just trying to play me. Not that I have much time to think about it - Madden’s already sliding his hands up my legs, his long fingers sliding under my dress and tracing the curves of my ass cheeks. “Things is: can you control yourself, Megan?”
I look into his eyes as he cups my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh, and I find myself without an answer. I open my mouth to reply, but then I just close it again - I truly don’t know what answer to give him.
“Don’t try to play me, Madden,” I finally find the courage to say, and then I lean into him and softly bite on his lower lips, pulling it back between my teeth. “I’m a grown woman.”
“Yes, you are,” he whispers, that mischievous darkness in his voice turning the space between my thighs into a wet mess. You’d think that after what happened with Tristan, I’d be able to see things more clearly now - but it’s just the opposite. That moment with Tristan just made me crave them both even more, my body completely addicted to the rush that comes from having a perfect man chasing after you.
Still with that wicked grin on his face, Madden takes one hand off of my ass and moves it up my back, only stopping when he rests it on the nape of my neck. Then, tangling his fingers on my hair, he yanks on it and forces me to throw my head back; the moment I do it he leans forward, opening his mouth and crushing it against my skin. He kisses and nibbles at my skin, and my sighs of pleasure slowly start turning into moans.
Bucking my hips at him again, I let a seductive sway take over my body. I press my pussy against his cock and grind against him, fully knowing that I’m driving him crazy with each passing second.
Letting go of my hair, he places both hands on my ass again and leaves them there, feeling the sway of my body as I dance over his cock. Our mouths find each other fast and, next thing I know, my eyes are closed and we’re kissing wildly, our tongues waging war against one another.
