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“You okay, Lily?” I hear Paul, tapping on the door.
I suppose I could pretend to be someone else. He didn’t see me head for the downstairs loo, did he? I could put on a voice and he might believe I snuck out of the back door and I’m long gone.
“Yeah, yeah… I’m fine.”
I wait for him to leave but he doesn’t. Does he need the loo after me?
I open the door and he’s standing there with wide eyes and biceps bulging, arms folded.
“You need it, mate? All yours.” I’m so detached, so cool.
“Nah, I don’t need it. But I’ll tell you what I do need.”
He moves towards me and I’m shocked when he makes a move.
Chapter Three
I’m drunk but I’m not that drunk so when he tries to kiss me, I push him away and step back. He draws his bottom lip into his mouth and looks hurt but also horny.
“You’re an idiot,” I accuse.
“Yeah, but tell me you’re happy with Ian.”
To shut him up, I do the only thing I can – I pull him into the loo with me, locking the door.
When he kisses me, the centre of me comes alive like it hasn’t in months, my pelvis heavy, pulsing. He pulls me close and groans, his bristles brushing against my skin as he teases my tongue with his and invites me to kiss him back.
When I reciprocate, he slides both of his hands down my back and grasps my bum tight, pulling me closer so I can feel his hard shaft against my belly. I begin to lose my breath and wrap my arms around his shoulders, clinging on.
He digs his hand underneath my hair and tugs my head backwards, exposing my throat to his soft, warm kisses. Another wallop of heat in my pelvis lets me know he’s the one for me. I begin contracting and I haven’t reacted with a partner like this before, not once in my life. Ian used to be really good at licking pussy and he is big, but never before have I endured fanny flutters like this with any other bloke.
Paul’s hand is under my floaty blouse before I know it, unhooking my bra. His hand moves to the front of my body and he sneaks his fingers beneath the lace and grasps my breast.
“Paul,” I groan.
“Yeah, babe?” he whispers.
“Not here.”
“Then where?” he begs, tweaking my nipple at the same time as fiddling awkwardly with the buttons of my top.
The moment he has my blouse unbuttoned and my nipple in his mouth, I’m lost and desperate for his cock.
“I’m so wet,” I moan, as he removes my top and bra and kisses my shoulders, my breasts, my throat and my chest.
“I can smell you through your jeans, you’re horny as fuck.”
“So are you.”
“Yeah. I want to fuck you raw.”
“Yeah?” I ask, looking up into his sea-green eyes.
“Yeah, I fancy the fuck out of you.”
The kissing becomes savage and he has my button open and zipper down before I have chance to contest again. He spins me around to face the wall and undoes himself. I hear the slap of flesh as his cock is freed and snaps back against his stomach.
He pulls my arm behind me and wraps my fingers around his hot, stiff shaft, as hard as stone. Maybe he’s not lying, maybe he does fancy the fuck out of me.
