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We make our way to the dance floor hand in hand. I take her into my arms. It’s the first time I’ve really held her beyond a quick hug. It feels so nice. So natural. Her normal peach scent is stronger while she’s this close.
I can’t help myself. I pull her just a little closer. Much to my surprise, she lets me. I think I may even feel her relax into me at one point.
My father makes some comment about me being too much of a wimp to kiss her. I look down at her. She subtly nods her head, and we both move our lips toward one another. It’s quick, closed-mouth, and soft. I want more.
My father yells out what a pussy I am for not properly kissing my fiancée. I roll my eyes. It doesn’t bother me at all, but I can feel Reagan get tense.
She looks straight up, as if in contemplation. She moves her fingers from my shoulders and threads them through my hair. She whispers, “Screw him, Carter. Give me a real kiss.”
I whisper back, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Just kiss me, Carter.”
My lips take hers. It starts off slow and soft, but as soon as I feel her tongue move across my lower lip, I completely lose myself.
Our tongues tangle with one another, as our lips continue to move. I take her cheek in one hand, as my other arm is wrapped around her waist. She lets out a small moan, and I pull her closer. She gasps as she feels my erection against her.
She pulls my hair harder as the kiss continues to intensify. Everything about this kiss is perfection, as I imagined it would be.
I don’t know how long we’ve been doing this, but I have no interest in stopping. Her soft lips are devouring mine. Our tongues move in perfect sync. I feel the sensation everywhere in my body.
My cock couldn’t possibly get much harder. I can’t help but push it onto her. Best of all, she pushes right back. I now know without a shred of doubt that I want her. I want her badly.
I’m about ten seconds away from tearing her dress off her body when I hear a throat clear. We break our kiss, completely out of breath, and look to the side to see Harley and Brody.
“Reagan, you look like Mom and Jackson out here. If you want to have sex, just go up to your suite or anywhere that’s not in a room of three hundred people.”
Reagan just nods as they move away from us. Her eyes are wide with shock. It may be the first time I’ve ever seen her speechless. She touches her lips with her hand. They’re swollen from our kiss. Her cheeks are flushed. She looks so beautiful.
She looks down at my erection. It hasn’t remotely gone down yet. “I’m still a red-blooded man, Reagan.”
She keeps staring down. “A seemingly impressive man at that.” I can’t help but smile. She has no idea.
We dance a bit longer until both of our bodies simmer down, though never quite all the way.
That kiss was electric. There’s no denying our chemistry.
We fulfill our obligations for the rest of the evening, with the buzz of that kiss never quite leaving us. At the end of the evening, we finally head up to our suite.
We close the door behind us. I turn to her. “Reagan, can we…”
“Goodnight, Carter.” She turns, heads for her bedroom, and closes the door.
Perhaps I misread the kiss, and she’s not into me. I’m not sure you can fake that, but maybe she’s a better actress than I thought.
I want to knock on her door, but I don’t. Instead, I head to my room in defeat.
I immediately strip down to my boxer briefs. As soon as I get into bed, I grab my cock, which hasn’t fully gone down since our kiss. It’s been begging for relief all night. For the past several months, if I’m being totally honest.
I start to stroke myself. I think of our kiss. I think of Reagan’s face. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her body. Her full tits.
I’m working myself over, pretending it’s her touch. I’m so desperate for her touch. To be inside her.
I wonder if her whole body smells like peaches. I wonder if she tastes like peaches.
It takes me less than a minute before white streaks shoot across my stomach.
I clean up and see that I still haven’t fully gone down. I’m not satisfied by a long shot.
