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Then I slip my hand down her panties, wedging it between her jeans and her pussy. She’s soaked. Drenched for me. Her juices move over my fingers as I grind my hand up and down over her lips and then her clit.
Her moans get even more urgent as I start to rub, unable to stop, addicted to the sound of her pleasure. Back and forth, her eager hips move in time with my hand.
Her pussy makes sexy, soppy noises for me the wetter she gets, my hand slick with her need, my whole being aching with the desire to be inside of her, to feel that same wetness on the helm of my aching cock and push all the way—push until her young body’s got no choice but to gift me with a future.
CHAPTERNINE
Harper
My mind struggles to catch up to what’s happening.
I take the headphones from my pocket, pretending I was listening to something. Then the tin fell, not looking at what I grabbed.
I walk out here and find Bryson in his jeans and his shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing his muscular forearms, his black-silver hair swept back, and his massive form hulking as if he was going to burst the buttons on his shirt.
Now I’m sitting in his lap, his hand rubbing against my bare pussy, his finger tickling my clit as more and more of my attention is fixated on the sensation of his hand, the firmness of it, my clit aching and throbbing the quicker he rubs.
My hips move on their own, as though—despite the nerves which cling to me—part of me knows what to do.
He kisses and bites my neck warmly. The tingles move down my spine, joining the tingles deep in my belly until my whole body is surging in celebration.
Bryson wants me, I wrote once, as well asBryson loves me.
The latter probably will never be true.
But the former…
He’s rubbing me faster, his breath panting, my pussy making wet noises which he doesn’t find gross. If anything, his growls get even more urgent and hungrier each time it happens.
“That’s it. Come all over my hand. I can feel how close you are.”
“Yes, yes,” I whimper, the only words I can summon.
Suddenly, the tension in my belly releases, as if all the crush-fueled fantasies combine to send unstoppable fire rushing through my body.
My pussy pulses and wetness makes it ache and sing, my clit feeling like it’s inflamed as wave after wave of euphoria makes my hips buck. Some of my dreams are coming true, at least on the physical side. With the ecstasy making my pussy ache, it’s so easy to forget about the rest.
Then the orgasm passes, and it all slams back into me.
We’re in Adam’s kitchen.
Bryson and Eva…
I leap to my feet and turn, staring down at Bryson.
His lips are red from kissing my neck, his fingers glistening from where he was touching me. His chest heaves. Part of his T-shirt is pulled up from his jeans, where my body was grinding against his. This display of his upper chest, the muscles hard and ready, is enough to make me whimper again.
I’m not sure what to say. We gaze at each other like we never want to stop.
Suddenly, he leaps to his feet, and steps toward me, until he’s towering over me like I always dreamed he would. My obsession reaches forward, and he takes my hips in his hands, making my sore pussy ache. He pulls me roughly against him, our bodies colliding.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, almost like a plea, his deep voice shaking.
I try to summon the words, knowing it would be the right thing, but my core tightens at the thought, telling me no way. Telling him to stop would be the worst choice I could make. Even if it would be the right one.
Shaking my head makes him smirk for a moment, and then he leans in, his breath caressing me as his lips get closer to mine. I stand on tiptoes, wrapping my arms around him, this moment feeling utterly new despite the countless times I’ve imagined it, obsessed over it.
His lips crash into mine, enthralling me instantly.
