Page 162 of The Luna Duet


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“I want us to come together. I want to feel you come against me. Wait...” Pushing me away a little, she unbuttoned my denim shorts, unzipped me, and palmed my raging cock. My black boxer-briefs strained; the waistband pulling away from my skin as my painful erection did its best to escape.

Without a word, she shoved my shorts to mid-thigh. Leaving my boxers on, she dug her fingers into my hipbones then pulled me forward, slotting me right back where I’d been.

Only this time...

The only obstruction between us were two feeble pieces of cotton.

Both damp with desire.

Both steaming with need.

I felt every fucking part of her.

My world swam. “Fuck, Neri.” I kissed her hard. I licked her and worshipped her, growing utterly drunk on the musky scent of her arousal. “I wish you’d changed before coming to see me.”

Her kiss-bitten lips quirked up. “You don’t like my school uniform, Aslan?”

“You’ve made my life a living hell because how can I hug you chastely now? How am I supposed to ever forget how you look, pinned against my door, your nipples poking through your shirt, and your pussy begging for me?”

“And you say I’m the dirty one.”

I grinned. “I did tell you, you’re a bad influence.”

“I’ll have you know I’m forcing myself to obey your rules. I’m doing my best to behave.”

My hips pulsed into hers, making her eyes roll back. “How is this you behaving?”

“I didn’t shove your boxers down. If I had my way, you’d be inside me right now. And I’m not talking about your fingers.”

“Neri—”

“Enough words, Aslan.” She rocked her hips forward, stroking me with every inch of her. “Didn’t you say I had to put you out of your misery? Well...put me out of mine.”

I lost the ability to breathe as I looked down at where we were joined.

The white of her underwear had turned translucent with her desire, revealing the dark shadow of her pubic hair and the utter drenching of her need.

How was I supposed to survive this girl?

She would kill me.

Of that I was absolutely certain.

“You sure?” I kissed her nose. “I could use my hand—”

“Like this.” Her eyes hooded as I rocked upward. “God, exactly like that.”

My heart hammered a tribal rhythm as I gave in and let instinct ride both of us.

It wasn’t a conscious decision.

It was primal.

I thrust into her.

She rocked over me.

We dry-humped like two crazy creatures, trying to climb inside one another, doing our best to reach that pinnacle with just the friction of clothes and desperation.

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