AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He captures my mouth in a heated kiss, and deliberately walks me backward toward the standing stone. When I’m pressed flush against it, my senses are assaulted by deep reverent bells, and every nerve in my body sizzles and sings. I arch up into Rory’s mouth, craving the taste of him, pulling him down closer to me. We’re a messy collision of tongues and teeth, and I find myself grinding, unbidden, against his thigh.
He pulls away from me, glancing down at the juncture of my legs with an unconcealed smirk. “Damn.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” I growl, dragging his head once more to meet my lips, pulling his mouth wider with my thumbs to make it more ripe for feasting. My tongue is hungry, searching.
“You’re a fucking animal,” Rory whispers gleefully against my lips, as hot glittery sparks consume me. “I love it.”
I can tell. His cock surges urgently against my front. I do my best to ignore it, because the ripples of pleasure cascading down my skin areminealone, and they’ve pushed me into a desperate, single-minded sense of aggression.
Rory seems entertained by my sudden greed. I find it infuriating, and I kiss the growing grin off his face.
“Clothes,” I demand, my lips sliding to his throat as I begin to shuck off my blazer.
Rory pulls away slightly, his gray eyes warm as he regards me. “Little saint, it’s freezing.”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh, I think you will.” He stops me from tossing away my blazer and I give a forlorn, needy cry as his fingers calmly redo my buttons. “It’s for your own good. Unsurprisingly, Idon’twish for you to get hypothermia.”
“You just want to fuck me in my school uniform. I know it’s some sick fetish you’ve got.” I don’t know where these spat words come from. I don’t know why I’m not embarrassed saying them. All I feel is a deep longing to come, and Rory seems determined to sabotage my mission by acting as an obstruction at every turn.
He breathes out a soft, incredulous laugh that tickles my nape, which only enrages me further. My desires aren’t being taken seriously and I scowl up at the amused expression on his face. He says nothing, just watches, as he gently draws me away from the stone burning my back. The world returns to one of lightness. The animals screaming in my head diminish almost instantly.
I blink up at Rory, bewildered, curious—
And then he shoves me back.
I release a snarling cry, and in some distant, buried part of me I realize:oh, I’m the animal. My mouth is swift and brutal as it crushes Rory’s, seeking pleasure and never savoring it, using it all up and screaming for more with my hot, licking tongue. My fingers grab hold of his dark blond hair and tug him into place, drawing all my strength to make sure he won’t be able to move from me, planting bruises on his skin, on his skull, from the fierceness with which I claw him with my fingers.
His cock runs against my hipbone, dagger-sharp and insistent. It irritates me. How dare he try to satisfy himself before me. Disgusted, I pull away from our frenzied kiss, and in a cold voice, I command, “On your knees.”
Rory raises a skeptical, golden eyebrow like he’s unsure whether or not I’m serious. Whatever he reads on my face, his lips firm into a determined line and his eyes flash with intrigue. He doesn’t remove his gaze from me as, slowly, and with the air of indulging me, he sinks onto the cobblestones.
He remains obligingly silent, though I can tell he wants to laugh, his pale gray eyes dancing in the pallid light falling through the ivy. “Hands,” I instruct, voice stern, and Rory places his securely on my hipbones. My fingers trace the soft wing of hair lolling across his forehead. They slide slowly down from his temple to his jaw, following its sloping path until their tips brush his full, waiting lips.
“I want you in me,” I mutter, and despite being crouched in front of my feet, Rory’s mouth curves into a knowing smirk like he’s the one in control, his fingers curling tightly around my hips as if to remind me of this. Delicately, his thumb delves beneath the waistband of my skirt to brush against my skin. I shiver.
He glances up at me with that spark of humor embedded in his gray eyes, pulling back just enough to murmur, “I suppose it gives a new meaning to the sword in the stone.”
“Shut up.” My voice is sharp. I have no time for his sarcasm. With a tug of his hair, I drag Rory closer to my front. His forehead caresses my lower belly, and he nuzzles his face against my soft plaid skirt with an almost inaudible sigh. I bury my fingers in his hair, and after taking a moment to admire the sheen of his dark golden head, I say, “Look at me.”
Rory lifts his head obediently. His eyes are still shining, but they’re less mocking than before. His smile has gone, replaced instead by deep gray eyes fixed on mine with such shocking intensity that the part of me not overcome with insane desire almost has to squirm away. Instead, I take his hands and press them to my thighs, guiding him to lift my skirt.
Inch by inch, the fabric slowly rises up my thighs until it lies, hitched in bunches in Rory’s hands, and gathered thickly around my hips. He takes his sweet time, watching every pained expression flash across my face. Once the hem leaves my thighs, Rory leans forward and plants a gentle kiss upon my tights, straight over the button of my clit. I’m soaked instantly, grabbing his head into place against me, the tip of his nose lightly grazing my cunt.
Rory glances up at me. “You like that?” His voice is a husky whisper in the cool January air, and he traces his fingertips along the dampness of my underwear. A thrill ripples through my core. I groan loudly, and his smirk widens into a wicked grin.
His finger dips into the waistband of my tights, tracing lightly along its elastic edge, and then his hand angles past the fabric to peel them slowly down. I let out a gasp as the drizzle in the sea air flecks my exposed skin. His finger lingers at the hem of my underwear, playing lightly along its edge.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands.
His tone rankles and I bite out, “You don’t order me.”
“Oh, I think I do,” Rory replies easily, “especially when it’s my hand on your cunt.”
48
Another wanton flash of heat. His hand lies flush between my parted thighs, the heel of his palm grinding softly against my clit. My hips buck upward toward Rory’s face, an involuntary movement sending a flood of liquid spilling into my underwear, captured by his cupped palm. He yanks my tights to my knees and, without waiting for permission, drags down my soaked panties with a rough hand.
