Page 83 of Finding Summer


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“Fuck, Asra.” It’s a whispered prayer, a plea, and a promise. Reaching out with his free hand, he caresses up my bare torso. His fingers climb higher, clasping my breast and kneading the sensitive flesh with his rough fingers.

It barely registers with me that I’m still wearing the same thing from earlier, his unbuttoned flannel shirt and a thong. Nothing else. Still, I make no move to shy from him or cover myself up.

As his lips connect with my neck, he takes my hand and guides it to his erection. The heavy length pulses in my hand as it sticks straight up.

I grip him tighter, keeping his same pace as I stroke my hand up and down his hard cock.

“Fuck.” It’s another plea right before his lips connect with mine.

Harsh. Demanding. He doesn’t start out slow. His tongue tangles with mine, taking and promising more as he picks me up. My back slams into the wooden, privacy fence. I wrap my legs around his waist as I dig my nails into his shoulders.

He groans, all restraint gone as he grinds his hips into mine. I cry out. It’s feverish, neither of us able to get enough.We frantically push and pull, claw and grab at anything and everything. A chaotic mess, our hands and mouths entwine in a rabid dance.

“House. Now.” He grunts the words. His lips never leave mine as he grips my ass beneath my shirt. He slides his length against my dripping folds, drawing a moan from both of us.

I’m on fire, my body already too high to come down. As I run my fingers across the stubble of his chin and deepen our kiss, he holds me tight and takes a step.

“Shower.” I manage as he heads around the fence.

“No. Inside.” He takes another step.

“No . . . Turn the shower . . .” I barely get the words out between frenzied breathsas I continue to try and climb him, all the while grinding my throbbing pussy against his hard length.

“Fuck. You’re killing me, Prude.”He spins around.

Hot water from the shower sprays down on us, drenching my hair and soaking my shirt as he fumbles with the knobs. It does nothing to damper our movements. After a few curses, the water slows to a trickle, then stops.

“Better?” He lifts me up, sucking one of my breasts into his mouth and tugging on my elongated nipple with his teeth.

My back arches, my head falls back as I moan. Digging my nails into his shoulders, I hold on tighter with my thighs. “Brendan!” I can’t stop the sounds spewing from my mouth.

He twirls his tongue, bites, and pulls harder. His hips rotating, sliding once more against my needy parts. Then, we’re moving again. His mouth claims mine, his hands everywhere. Stopping at the small table, he reaches down and grabs his jeans. Pulling something out of his pocket, he drops his pants, then continues around the fence.

No towel. No drying off. Carrying me, he hurries across the deck. Barging into my house, he spins. We run into my end table. It crashes to the ground, the contents on it spilling as my back slams into the wall.

He kisses me even deeper. Desperate. Needy. Reaching between us, he pulls my thong to the side.

I whimper, my body frantic as he eases one finger inside me. When he adds a second finger and circles his calloused thumb over my clit, I explode. He swallows my cries, his fingers never ceasing as he prolongs my release.

Before I can even come down, we’re spinning. He sets me on my island. One of my stools falls over. Something spills to the ground. Grabbing my legs, he lays me back and dives in. Licking up and down my folds as he pumps his fingers in and out of me, he moans. His shoulders flex, holding my legs open as his tongue circles my overly sensitive clit.

My back arches on the cold, marble surface. I grip the edge to steady myself. Panting, I glance down my body at him. His blue eyes meet mine. Everything inside of me clenches. Grabbing my thong, he rips in in half, letting it fall as he nibbles on my inner thighs.

He licks all the way up my folds, then circles his tongue around my clit. His hands and mouth work in tandem, refusing to let my body come down. Then he teases one finger around my rear hole.

It feels so foreign, so dirty, yet the pressure feels so right. His finger circles again. My eyes close. I bite my bottom lip, muffling all my incoherent moans. He eases the tip of his finger inside. I try to keep my eyes open, try to watch, but it’s too much. All I can do is thrash beneath him, my head turning from side to side as my wet shirt sticks to my heated flesh. I pant, my chest heaving as I try to hold on.

He slides two fingers inside me again, angling them just right as he continues his assault on my clit all the while teasing my rear hole.

“Brendan . . . I . . . I need you inside –”

“Not yet, Little Girl.” He adds a third finger. “Let go, Prude.” The words vibrate through my core as he bites my nub. I scream, my entire body lurching from the counter. He moves faster, everything all at once as he holds me down, until I’m falling apart, falling to shards, again.

Grabbing something from the floor, he rips open the small packet and tosses part of it back on the floor. He slides a condom down his length. Then his lips are on mine. Hoisting me up, he carries me down the hall.

Raw. Powerful. This is him unhinged, uncaged. He’s pounced and he’s not letting go. But, neither am I.

I kiss him back, holding on as we spiral down the hallway. My back hits one wall, then another. My nails dig into his shoulders. He groans, his hips grinding against my sensitive pussy.

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