AllFreeNovel
Share Us
8
Ethan ran his fingers through her long hair, noticing her smooth, sultry, wavy texture. In response, she moved next to him, sighing into his chest. For the past twenty minutes or so, they remained like this. Sweaty, naked, and shamelessly connected.
He should get up and go soon—he only had enough of a window until Archie woke up from a nightmare and looked for him. But staying together, in such bubble of intimate warmth, just felt so fucking good.
She kissed his nipple, and a flutter surged through him. “My cousin can never know we had sex when you saw me wearing that bikini. I’ll never live it down.”
“You mean she doesn’t know about the first time?”
She propped herself on her elbow, shaking her head at him. “No, otherwise God knows what else she’d put in my luggage.”
A chuckle floated up his throat, slipping past his lips. He liked who he was when he was with her. Lighter. Not as worried about everything. Because this is temporary, a mocking voice inside him warned. Hadn’t Darcy been all fun and games when they dated?
His gut clenched. Poppy and Darcy had zero in common. Even he knew that.
Don’t worry about the future, he pleaded with himself. Worrying was all he did, and with Poppy, he had the chance to do something else. To feel. To live. To enjoy the moment, as brief as it might be.
“I’m grateful for the bikini,” he said. “I’m sure you’d look good in anything though.” And better with nothing at all, he added inwardly.
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in my prom dress. Bright orange with stripes, horrible color for me.”
“I would have given anything to see you then,” he said, and for some reason, his words carried a weight, like a hidden emotion cracked through his voice.
She brought herself to a sitting position, and pulled the sheet up, covering her body. “I wore braces. And dated a guy with a giraffe tongue.”
A smile broke his lips despite his best effort to act stoic. The idea of any man, with any kind of tongue dating Poppy, his Poppy, made him see red. “A giraffe tongue?”
“Yes, you know, it’s long and moving in awkward directions.”
He laughed, loving how she effortlessly dissipated any tension with her undeniable humor. He’d miss it, when she was gone. He cleared his throat. God, this whole enjoying the moment thing was harder than it looked sometimes.
“What was your prom night like?” she asked, her eyes looking for his.
“I was dating a girl my parents loved. Holly. We dated for a few months.”
She nudged his arm playfully “That’s it? I give you a wiggling, wet giraffe tongue and you give me precious Holly? Not fair.”
“Well, she had an underbite and huge mole on her face.”
“Really?”
“No.”
She threw a pillow at him. “I still win.”
He threw it back at her. “You are something else, Poppy Jones.”
“I’ll take the compliment. Also, shouldn’t you be leaving soon? In case Archie wakes up?”
He scooted to the edge of the bed, having to drag every bone in his body to keep moving. Yes, leaving her warm bed and the incredible time he shared with her brought an ache to his heart. Their connection went beyond sexual, at least for him, and if he weren’t careful, that would cause an even bigger heartache in the future. “You are right.”
“Say that again,” she said, defiance touching her eyes, and playfulness lacing her voice.
He couldn’t resist. He slid back on the bed, and pulled her into his arms, kissing her like he hadn’t seen her in a year. She circled her hands around him, and he intensified his stake at her, eager to find the best angle. She scratched his shoulders, and wrapped her legs around him.
Within a moment, she was naked in his lap, and he thrust his hard cock inside her, like it had never been out.
“Yes,” she hissed, and the moment he felt her fingernails cutting through his flesh, he fucked her harder, in and out of her, like he had no regard for her pleasure—not at that moment. Shit, he had no regard for his pleasure. All he wanted was to exorcise this obsessive desire out of him, using his body as a vessel. Maybe if he fucked her madly, it’d part with his body. It’d set him free.
