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She moans as the fabric snaps around her smooth calves. I lift her feet one at a time, helping her out of her panties.
“Also, you didn’t answer me,” I growl, moving one hand to her breast while my fingers sink into her. Shit, she’s even wetter than I thought, and my cock jerks when I feel how ready she is. “How much do you think my cock cares about speaking in code, this soap opera shit? You think that fight we had matters when I’m hard as a brick, and you’re leaking all over my hand?”
“I don’t...I don’t—”
Know?
No, she fucking doesn’t.
And I’m not interested in saying more that can’t be said with our bodies. It seems like the only way to sort out what I really think and feel.
I don’t kiss and make up.
I don’t fall in love.
I don’t get my head screwed up by girls I’m not supposed to be railing in the first place.
Except I’m doingallthose things right now.
I crossed the goddamned Rubicon the first time I fucked her and apparently I can’t stop, no matter how much it’s bound to hurt like a motherfucker when summer runs out and hard reality drags us apart for good.
Why should I do it prematurely, though?
The fact that I’m this indecisive, a mess of second-guesses, screams the effect she has on me.
Honestly, I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore unless I’m buried in Delia.
My thumb circles her clit, rendering her speechless, pushing her full, bare ass into the ridge under my jeans.
I’m about to explode instantly.
Amazing.
By now I should’ve fucked the urge to come every time our skin touches out of my system, but it seems like it’s just gettingworse.
I don’t understand, and it pisses me off.
I don’t get why I can’t just do what I came here for and shut this madness down.
Still, I take her to the edge with my fingers, looting her hot cunt while my thumb works her clit, eager to feel her convulse on my hand.
“Let fucking go, beautiful,” I snarl, pulling out of her core and urging her a few steps away from the wall.
I take her hands, lay them firmly on the tall bedpost, and unclasp my belt.
She’s a treasure. A war prize. A captured Siren.
Everything I’ve dreamed about since I first saw this bed, the only good thing in this house besides her.
Delia gives me a small whimper of surprise when I drag her hands up over her head, getting her at the perfect angle, lashing her to the post with my belt.
“What the actual hell? We’re really doing this?”
She sounds so excited I want to laugh.
Instead, I shove my pants down once she’s bound, grab her waist, and pull her sweet ass against my cock.
“This isn’t about mixing it up with ropes and blindfolds. I just want you around till I’m good and done fucking you. This is us talking,” I tell her, swallowing thickly. “And maybe if we both listen closely, if we both speak loud enough, we’ll walk away with an understanding.”
