Page 58 of The Roommate


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Clara hadn’t accounted for Josh’s dirty talk when she agreed to this plan. How his words made everything more exciting and urgent and deliciously undignified.

She opened her eyes to find him wrestling with control. He moved until he was facing her on the couch, every inch of his long, lean form bent forward in anticipation. She let her eyes wander between his legs and pinched her nipples hard between her thumb and forefinger. The bulge in his pants was truly obscene. He seemed unaware that he’d begun to subtly rock his hips.

“You should take that out,” she said, and then immediately covered he

r mouth with her hand.

Josh froze. “Huh?”

Clara removed her fingers from her lips slowly. “Your . . . cock.” She wrapped her mouth around the word he’d used earlier. “You should take it out and touch yourself. If you’d like.” She ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I got carried away.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Josh tore off his T-shirt, treating her to a view of his abs rippling as he raised his arms. He pulled his pants and briefs down his legs so fast she’d barely blinked before he had his hand wrapped around himself.

“Oh my God.” Her voice shook as the temperature in the room blazed. “It’s like someone gave a Caravaggio painting a gym membership.”

Josh stilled his hand around the base of his thick shaft. “Is that . . . good?”

“Yes.” It was so much more than good. The screen of her computer really hadn’t done him justice. No wonder he was mad about losing all those merchandise dollars. Women across America had probably emptied their 401(k)s for a silicone simulation of the heat Josh was packing.

“Are you going to . . .” He nodded toward her still pajama-clad thighs. “You have no idea how much I want to see you right now.”

Clara would have traded anything to get Josh to keep looking at her exactly like that, so she pushed the rest of her clothes down and off.

“Fuck. Me,” Josh said when she was bare before him. He stopped moving. In fact, she wasn’t sure he hadn’t stopped breathing. “Please touch your pussy. Please. I know I’m begging. I know it’s not macho or suave or cool. But please, Clara. I’m losing my mind.” Josh ground out the words in an aching voice.

Blind lust gave her the confidence to bring her trembling hand to her stomach, to let her fingers slowly slide between her thighs. The moment her hand made contact with her sex, she and Josh both swore.

He moved closer until each of his harsh breaths fell against her neck.

She whimpered as her hips bucked, seeking penetration. Begging for the man beside her.

Josh’s eyes grew darker, wilder, until he looked like the victim of a pheromone shipwreck.

Suddenly everything, the pressure of her hand and the pleasure she wrought, doubled. Josh worked himself in smooth strokes, swallowing every time his thumb grazed the head of his cock. He let his mouth fall open as he watched her work herself closer toward release.

Without thought or intention, Clara moaned the one word she’d forbidden herself to utter. “Josh.”

The sound of his name on her lips seemed to break him. His whole body started shaking. “Say it again,” he ground out through clenched teeth. His working forearm had pulled so tight she could count the veins. He lowered his voice to a litany. “Keep saying my name.”

She held his gaze as she inserted two fingers into her tight body, unable to find any room in her mind for shame.

Not when his breathing was as ragged as hers.

Not when she chased an orgasm that promised to ruin her.

It made perfect sense to turn Josh’s name into a mantra. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she could feel him everywhere. The heat and tightly coiled energy rolled off his body in waves.

Everything she’d ever believed about sex and her body became ancient history as she moved like a woman who had never apologized for chasing her own pleasure. Let him look. Let him see the frantic motion of her hand as she brought herself exactly what she wanted.

His presence acted like sensory deprivation, everything heightened, focused on a single point.

“Please tell me you understand how amazing you look right now.” His eyes rolled back in his head as she added another finger. He grew rougher with his strokes. “I’d do terrible things, Clara, to suffer the perfect torture of watching you fuck yourself again and again.” He didn’t touch her, but his words sank into her skin.

Clara was caught up in him. Drowning in sensation. So distracted that when she fell over the edge, she cried out in not only pleasure but surprise. Her eyes fell closed as she let the orgasm break across her body without shying away. When she blinked to find Josh watching her face, the naked longing in his eyes drew out the shudders of her body.

It wasn’t until a moment later when her body finally relaxed, when she fell back against the sofa like a limp noodle, that Josh allowed his own release, painting his stomach with the evidence of his desire. Sweat began to cool on her trembling body. Nothing had ever felt as good as the illusion Josh wove of wanting her.

The living room was quiet except for the mingling of their desperate breaths.

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