Page 73 of Outcast


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“Let’s take this off.”

Slowly, I start unbuttoning her shorts, and she doesn’t stop me.

I don’t look away. Neither does she.

The air between us burns with want that was always disguised by something else—awkward smiles or silly conversations that never carried any meaning.

That’s what people who have feelings do—they hide meaning behind nonsense. And I am done with nonsense for tonight.

Her shorts are wet from the rain. I slowly pull them down her hips. She pushes them further, letting them drop onto the floor, and steps out of them. I hook my fingers under her loose bikini top and pull it over her head and toss it aside.

I pull her closer to me and kiss her again, then lower my head and kiss her one breast, then another, then catch one pink nipple in my mouth and tug at it softly with my lips.

Her hands weave into my hair, and I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of her touch.

She is warm and damp. I want to dry her with a towel, then drag her to bed, make her wet in all the right places, and fuck her brains out.

But that’s a no.

So I stop, bring my face up to hers, and search her eyes for a signal—something to tell me she is not ready for this.

Her gaze is shy but open and is a definite yes. Her hands are still in my hair. And I drop my gaze down to her lime bikini bottom.

“Strawberries, huh,” I murmur.

“It’s from the communal stash,” she murmurs as if in apology and bites the corner of her bottom lip.

My gaze slides lower to her thighs pressed tightly together.

And then, nothing else matters.

“Open your legs, petal,” I say softly, the words making my already hard cock swell with need.

She widens her stance.

The fucking strawberries—they have to go. They are closer to her skin than I am.

I bring my hand to her bikini, hook my forefinger under the fabric, and slide it to the side, exposing her pussy.

She is bare.

F-f-f-fuck.

Who was she getting ready for like this before coming here?

But that thought is lost too as I brush my finger along her delicious slit. Moisture coats my forefinger—she is wet, and it’s so fucking arousing my entire body is one big hard-on.

“Look at this pretty thing,” I murmur as I stare down.

I can stare at her pussy for eternity.

It’s perfect. Bare. Slick as I run my finger along the slit and the little petal that peeks out.

Petal…

I stifle a grunt. I want this beauty in my mouth but I don’t want to push it with her.

I want to open her pussy lips and tease her, then shove my cock inside her and fuck her brains out.

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