Page 147 of Almost Pretend


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She should get off me. I should lift her away.

But our eyes lock.

And then there’s no hope left for us.

I don’t know if I kiss her first or she kisses me.

I just know my hands are tangled in her wet hair, stroking it back from her face, pulling her against me as I seize her mouth.

“Elle,” I whisper.

She answers with a needy moan, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling herself against me until we’re all friction and burning skin and wildness that could steam the ocean dry.

Her hunger is a challenge, baiting me to meet her ferocity as she kisses me hard, her tongue sliding against my mouth and inside to tangle and twine with mine—until she gasps as I tumble her over on her back, pinning her down and taking the upper hand.

Her mouth is mine.

Soon, all of her.

No more banter tonight.

No more defiance.

No more play.

I’m serious as hell as I subdue her with slow thrusts and firm strokes of my tongue, nipping her bottom lip just to feel its ripeness.

I taunt her with long, lingering licks and swift flicks against the tender flesh inside her mouth.

Until she goes soft underneath me, whimpering with delight.

Until she arches up, and fuck, I can almost fit between her thighs. The wet fabric clings to us both, this simulation of fucking that tortures us with denial.

It hurts.

It hurts that every time I thrust my tongue inside her mouth, I’m not thrusting in her, and I need something to take the edge off.

My fingers catch her dress.

I curse how long it is as I hike it up, up, peeling the wetness away from her skin until I can touch her naked waist.

Her ribs.

Her breasts, peeling the damp bra away to knead them against my palms.

I groan with every liquid roll of flesh spilling over my fingers.

And I nearly burst when her sounds turn high and needy, sugar drops of her pleasure poured between our crushing kisses.

Everything is slick.

Her.

Me.

Everywhere our flesh glides together, where our need meets.

I flick her nipples with my thumbs and she bites me, begging my name in a ragged groan and bruising my lip. I rock my hips against hers, and her body meets mine, pleading with her legs spreading and her thighs flanking my hips.

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