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I want him.
“Please,” I practically beg. “I need you to kiss me.”
Running his tongue along his lips in the most erotic way, he slowly nods. “I was gonna kiss you before you asked, but I had to stop and make sure to never ever forget this moment.”
Before I can say anything, though really, I have no clue what I was going to say, his lips are dropping to mine, and I swear I am a puddle of goo once they touch mine. Melting against him, I bring my arms up and around his neck, holding him close as he holds me hostage to his lips. As he presses me against the sink, his hands trail down my body, setting every inch of me on fire as our mouths move together like they were meant to. Grasping my hips in his hands, he presses into me, his hard length taking my breath, causing me to open my mouth to his. When his tongue invades my mouth, I’m stunned. His kiss is like a fucking trance.
Wrapping his arms tightly around my waist, he lifts me up, and instinctively I wrap my legs around his waist. Holding him close between my thighs. He groans against my mouth, and then we are moving out of the bathroom. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dizzy. Between his kisses, the way he feels against me, the Jack, and the lust, I’m a fucking mess.
But I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Dropping me on the bed, he kisses down my jaw, my throat, as my arms lay bonelessly on the mattress. Arching my back, I want to become one with him. I want to encase myself inside of him and allow him to do what he pleases. I’ve never wanted someone the way I want him, and at this point, the last thing I’m thinking about is tomorrow.
All that matters is right now.
Taking me by the back of the neck, his other hand braces up against the bed as his dick presses into me before he brings my mouth to his. Reaching for his shirt, I pull up at it, getting it out of the way so I can push his shorts down, but then he is stopping me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says so many times, I’m dizzy.
“Whoa, what?” I ask, breathing heavily as his eyes lock with mine.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says, fighting for his breath. “I didn’t think this would happen. I didn’t plan on this.”
“I didn’t either,” I admit, sucking in deep breaths. Soon he is blurry, and I don’t know why, but I say, “But I’m tired of living but not living.”
And then a tear rolls down my fucking face.
Wiping it away, I look to the side. But just as quickly as I look away, he is bringing my gaze back to him. His eyes are wide, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but I can’t read the look on his face. I don’t know what he is thinking. I want to ask, but then he is falling on top of me. He pushes my leg up, pressing his glorious hard self between my legs as I gasp against his lips. I’m dripping with need, but something inside me still isn’t one hundred percent committed to this.
I know this is a bad idea.
I don’t know what will happen after this.
But when his mouth drops to mine, his lips moving with mine, he takes every single doubt from my soul. Maybe I have to stop controlling everything. I can’t control what I am feeling right now. This all-consuming need for him. I can’t calculate every single damn thing in my life. I have to go with it. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t.
At least I fucking lived.
I’m flying.
I swear I am.
Her lips are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Her body is soft in all the right places but hard where it matters. I can feel the heat through her jean shorts, her heart hammering against her ribs, vibrating not only herself but me too. I’m dazed with lust for her, and I can’t get enough. I’m shaking, unable to breathe or process this, but it’s happening. She’s gonna be mine.
When she asked me to kiss her, I couldn’t even move. I had to replay her words, make sure she said them, before they even processed. I thought I was going to have to just kiss her, but she asked for it. After fighting her desire for me all damn day and night, finally, she’s underneath me.
And I’m not prepared.
Kissing down her throat, I dip my tongue between her breasts sucking in a deep breath, intoxicating myself with her scent before kissing her in the middle of the chest and pushing myself up with my hands. Looking down into her flushed, gorgeous face, I can’t help but be overcome by her beauty. Her hair is escaping the braid, her eyes are hooded, her lipstick smeared down her mouth and jaw. She is exactly how I wanted her.
But something is holding me back.
Reaching up, she threads her fingers in my hair, bringing me down to kiss her once more. I can taste the Jack in her mouth, smell the bonfire that we spent most of our time around, so sweet and musky on her clothes. As I kiss down her throat to her shoulder then bicep, I can taste the beer that must have splattered on her when I scored during beer pong. As I explore her body, it’s as if I’m reliving our whole day together. Just by the taste and scent of her.
It’s something I’ve never experienced.
When I pull back, she cups my face, her eyes burning into mine, and I know this isn’t the girl that I’ve spent the day with. This one is calm and languid, wanting me, and maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel right. I don’t know, something is off. She’s drunk, I’m drunk, and maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time here. But then again, this is what I wanted.
When she runs her fingers down my face, I close my eyes, leaning my face into her touch as she whispers, “I know Delanie has condoms.”
