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She sags against me, clearly spent. But I’m not done yet.
Then she tenses as the condo door opens and closes.
“Sweet. Breakfast!” Flip exclaims.
Panic makes my throat tight, and anger flames down my spine. He’s supposed to be gone for hours. I was supposed to be able to take my time.
“Oh my God,” Bea whispers around my fingers, which are still in her mouth.
“Shh...” I shut out everything but Bea, unwilling to let the guilt over what I’ve done—what I’m doing—sink its claws in yet. That’ll hit later. But I’m still inside her. And I still haven’t had enough.
I pull out and flip her onto her back, cover her mouth with my palm, and push my way back inside. Her eyes go wide, and she moans. I pinch a nipple, gently, then stretch out over her.
She asks something from behind my hand, but it’s a garbled whisper. I remove it and give her my ear. “What are you doing?”
“I haven’t come yet. We don’t finish until I finish.” Normally I’d avoid missionary because it speaks of comfort and closeness, both things I avoid in sex partners, but I need to be able to keep a hand over her mouth. And if I only get her once, I want to see her face when I come.
I run a hand down her side, skimming her curves until I reach her knee. I pull her leg up, hooking the back of her knee in the crook of my arm. I stay deep, rolling my hips, shushing her when she whimpers.
I stroke her cheek and drop my lips to her ear. “I’m close, Bea. So fucking close. Be my good girl and stay quiet. You don’t want anyone to know you let me fuck you raw, do you?”
She turns her face into my throat, teeth sinking into the skin above my collarbone. Her pussy clenches.
I pull back and take her face in my hands, giving in to the need to soak up some of her goodness. “Filthy, sweet girl.” I claim her mouth and swallow her soft moan as the orgasm slams through me. My teeth hit her lip, and I taste copper, and then my vision goes white. Her nails dig into my shoulders so hard she might break the skin.
I collapse on top of her, needing the feel of her around me.
A knock on my door follows. “Hey, Tris, there’s breakfast out here, if you’re interested.”
My gut tightens and churns. I clear my throat before I call out, “Cool. I’ll be out in a few.”
I don’t want to move, to face what I’ve done, to lie to my best friend. But I need to run interference. I ease out of her, disappointed that it’s over already. I’m far from sated. All I want is more.
“What do I do?” Beat whispers, her panic obvious.
I need to stay in control here. Flip can’t know about this, and Beat can’t see the guilt already setting in. “Stay here. I’ll get food and make up some excuse to eat in here.”
“You smell like condom and pussy,” she whispers.
“That’s not new. He’ll think I brought someone home.” I don’t like the pit in my stomach, or the look that crosses her face. But I’ve just fucked my best friend’s little sister, so fucker’s remorse and a heaping truckload of guilt seems pretty damn likely. “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”
Against my better judgment, I press my lips softly to hers before I roll off the bed and pull on a pair of boxer briefs. Beat clambers off the mattress and grabs my arm. Her other hand covers her mouth, and her eyes are wide. She’s also naked. She’s a sight to behold, all softness and curves. I keep my eyes above her neck, hoping to avoid another hard-on. I give her a questioning look.
“Your back,” she whispers.
“What about it?”
She points to the mirror. Besides the scratches that run shoulder to ass, there are also several bloody crescent-shaped marks from her nails. I shake off her hold, cross the room, and grab a towel from the hamper. Swiping it over my shoulders, I clear away the blood. I toss the towel in the hamper and head for the door. A wave of self-loathing hits me, not because I regret what I’ve done, but because I don’t. And now I have to face my best friend. I steel myself, unlock the door, and open it a crack.
Flip is standing at the counter, shoving food into his face like it’s going to disappear. I leave my room, stomach tightening.
“Hey, man, looks like Rix was busy this morning. Where’s she at?” He turns to face me, and his eyes go wide. “Oh shit. Found yourself a wild one last night, eh?”
“Sure did.” More like this morning, but that’s semantics. I pause to steady myself, as the wave of guilt is crushing and deserved. Flip has been my best friend since elementary school. We’ve been through thick and thin together, and I just had dirty sex with his sister. She’s still in my bed. The smell of her is all over my sheets and my body. I’m a selfish asshole of the first order.
