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He turned to look at her, realized that she was naked.
It bowled him over, how beautiful her perfect curving silhouette was, backlit by the glow from the bathroom. So graceful. His throat tightened. His cock sprang to attention. His balls were heavy, throbbing.
“Lily,” he warned. “You’re covered with bruises.”
She tilted her head. The light caught the sly gleam in her eye. “Shhh,” she murmured, getting to work on the buttons of the fleece shirt he’d borrowed from some McCloud or other. “I’m fine. But I won’t pressure you. I know how tired you are, particularly after that meeting. Let’s just, you know. Cuddle. Skin to skin. It feels so good.”
A sound burst out, hurting his throat. “Fat fucking chance.”
“We could,” she said stubbornly. “We really could. Men are so weird about that.” She shoved the shirt off his shoulders, and started in on his belt. “Nothing’s stopping us.” She shoved his pants down.
“Ya think?” His cock leaped out,sproing,like it was spring-loaded.
She gazed at it. “Ah,” she murmured. “Just out of curiosity, are you in this condition in spite of all your stress? Or because of it?”
“Does it matter?” He tried and failed not to sound belligerent as he kicked off his shoes, wrenched his jeans the rest of the way down.
She shrugged. “Just wondering.”
“One, I’m jacked up and totally out of my mind. Two, you’re gorgeous, and you drive me wild. That still doesn’t make it a good idea.”
She took his hand, led him towards the stairs. “Well, gee. Maybe you’re right. Let’s just take this upstairs, and have this argument while we’re warming up the sheets.” She glanced down at his turgid dick. “We can discuss all the, um, ramifications under a cuddly comforter.”
He held back. “It’s not just that,” he said, miserably. “The dreams. You shouldn’t sleep with me, Lily. It’s not safe. I’ll sleep on that couch.”
“Fucked if you will.” Her voice was as sharp as glass. “Come up those stairs with me, right here, right now. Or. Else.”
Well, damn. She had him by the dumb handle. He followed along up that winding staircase like a docile hound, helpless to resist the spectacular view of her ass. It was so round, accented with velvety shadows deepening the cleft and pooling in the twin dimples at the top, collecting under the lush, pear-like under-curve of her butt cheeks. He wanted to cup and stroke and pet and kiss. Hours of worship.
He didn’t have the strength to do the right thing. Even to protect her. And he loved her. What a dickhead. Weak and selfish.
“If I dream, you know to get the hell away from me, right?” he persisted. “Don’t try to wake me, don’t try to touch me. Clear? Got it?”
“Sure.” She smiled mysteriously over her shoulder. “I promise. No physical contact of any kind. Scout’s honor.”
He squinted at her. “You’re messing with me.”
She started to laugh. “This isn’t fair. What good is it to have a man tell me he loves me if he won’t touch me, and won’t sleep with me, and won’t put out? Screw that!”
“You haven’t told me if you love me back,” he said.
Fuck.He chickened out as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and lunged to put his hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you. It just popped out.”
She yanked his hand down. “But I—”
“Sometimes I talk too much.” He kissed her as he pushed her down onto the cold iron steps of the spiral staircase, caged by the curving bars of the railing. He pushed her legs open. “It’s an impulse control thing. I’m working on it. And I’ll put out, big-time. Believe me.”
He sank down, put his mouth to her. She protested, giggling and squirming, but he was fiercely intent upon knocking her off whatever train of thought she might have been traveling.
He cupped her mound with the V of his index and forefinger and lifted it, parting her pussy lips and making the taut, rosy bud of her clit pop pertly out of its hood. Ready for worship and giddy distraction from thinking. Thinking was a bad idea for stressed out girls. Better to be whimpering, thrashing, coming. Getting a clue of the advantages to being loved by him, one of those being lots of prolonged, enthusiastic tongue action. He just could not get enough of her. Her taste, and texture and scent. The softness of her inner thigh against his cheek. Plump, tender pussy folds, drenched with salt-sweet girl juice. He suckled her clit, fingerfucking her, delving for secret hot spots.
It took a few minutes, but he felt when the tension in her body changed from resistance to urgency. Her quivering thighs were clamped around his head, her snug channel squeezed hungrily around his fingers. He put on the brakes a couple times, made her wait, fingernails raking on his shoulders. It made him smile against her juicy muff.
And then, the strong, eager pulse of her pussy around his fingers as pleasure jolted through her. Sweet satisfaction.
He wiped his face. “So. We were going to discuss ramifications?”
She could not move. He scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder. Her body vibrated with silent laughter.
