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“So good,” she pants, her words unsteady.
I pull back and then sink deep again. I’m not giving her everything I have because even though she says she doesn’t want gentle I can’t stop thinking about how tight she is around me. And as bad as I want to take her completely, pound out the depth of my need until she can’t feel anything but me—I want it to be good for her more.
So I listen, and on the next stroke, when I sink just a little faster, just a little harder, and she moans just a little louder—fuck, that sound—I give her just a little more. And then more after that, until I can’t hear anything but the sounds of this woman’s pleasure raining down around me as my body meets hers again and again and again.
“Quinn, please… like that.” There’s nothing but the rhythmic grip of her pussy clenching around me every time I hit that spot so deep inside her. “I’m… I’m…Quinn!”
She’s there. Shaking in my hold, coming apart so hard her cries go silent as she clings to my shoulders and buries her face in my neck.
“Georgie, you feel so sweet coming all over me,” I pant, because I’m almost there too.
She clenches again and, hell, add to the list of the things I love, the way she responds when I talk a little dirty to her.
My name slips past her lips on a whimper, and I’m done. Pounding hard, I give myself over to her, to the sensation built up low in my spine and surging through my balls.
Minutes later, I’m still buried inside her. Still half-hard where she’s pulsing around me. Still holding her against my favorite door in all the land. Wondering how long she’ll let me keep her this way before brushing me off to go back to her friends. Before she’s back to not looking at me or talking to me or dealing with me.
Because I’m not the kind of guy a girl like her wants for more than this.
She lets me hold her longer than I expect and doesn’t complain when I kiss the side of her head as I set her down and hold her steady while she gets her legs back.
And it feels amazing. So good I can almost convince myself it’s real. That this is more than just some dirty hookup for her.
I know what she’s going to say before I ask, but the glutton for punishment I didn’t know existed in me has to do it anyway.
“Come back to my place, Georgie.”
She’s already shaking her downturned head against my chest, making me wish for about the millionth time that things were different, or at least that I’d gotten my shirt open so I could feel those soft waves of red against my skin.
“Can’t,” she says in a voice as soft as she’s ever given me.
Keeping my arm wrapped around her shoulders, I hold her to me for another minute, only letting go when she eases back. She leans against the door as I handle the rubber and tuck my still half-hard dick in my pants.
Laughing softly, she waves a hand in the general direction of my fly. “Does that thing ever go away?”
“Not around you.” True story.
I crouch down, and damn, now I’m feeling it in my knees, all right. She rests a hand on my shoulder for balance as I help her with her jeans, sliding them back up those gorgeous legs and then taking more time than strictly necessary with her fly… Dropping a kiss on the top button when I’m done and pushing my luck every which way by sliding my arms around her hips and resting my forehead against her belly.
“Why are you trying so hard to convince me you’re this sweet?” she whispers, her voice sounding sluggish, weary.
Sad.
My eyes open and I look up at her.
I take a long breath and push to my feet in front of her. I’m too close, towering over her in a way I generally go out of my way to avoid. Only this, right now, I need George to look into my eyes and see the truth.
Because enough is enough. “Let’s go. We need to talk.”
She blinks, glances away. “We can’t talk in here?”
“No. If we’re in here for even five more minutes, I’m going to have you up against that door again, making you come so hard, so many times, that when I’m finally finished you won’t be able to walk on your own. And when I carry you out, you can bet your sweet ass it’s going to be back to my bed and nowhere else.”
Shit. That came out a little more intense than intended. But everything about this girl gets to me in ways I can’t seem to predict or even begin to understand.
She’s still. Probably as shocked as I am.
And when her head starts to come up toward mine, I brace for her to tear me a new one. Only as our eyes meet, the weariness is gone and it isn’t righteous indignation I find burning in their depths, but something much hotter.
