The heat that was present in my cheeks seems to have hightailed it down to my nether regions and jacked up the thermostat, making itself right at home.
“Oh.”
Damn, he’s sexy. And he feels good under me. Getting sexed by Warren Knight just moved right up to the front of the line on my to-do list. Also, I’m completely elated with the news that I’m not wearing sloppy second clothing from one of his conquests. It makes me like him even more.
“You just rocked over my cock again,” he says.
“I don’t think I did,” I say breathlessly as I lean in closer, my fingers playing with the ends of his hair.
I move my hips over his erection again, forcing a groan from his throat. “You definitely did.”
“Hmm. I think it’s in your head.”
“Yeah, the head of my cock. Because you’re definitely doing it.”
“You’re mistaken.”
Using my arms on his shoulders for leverage, I lift up slightly and then sit back down on him, grinding into him to get that wonderful friction my center seems to be craving.
He groans louder this time, and then in a swift move, he grips the back of my head, taking complete control, while his fingers dig into my waist. “I shouldn’t be doing this with you, but I fucking want you too much to stop it,” he admits.
“Don’t stop it. I want you too,” I breathe.
His eyes flare at my admission. “Every time I think about the way you were under my desk, naked beneath my jacket, with your hands teasing over my cock...I get so fucking hard it hurts.”
My pulse jumps. My breath stutters. Everything in me is like a live wire, ready to snap with a spark at just a single touch.
“Kiss me the non-goldfish way,” I plead.
His lips twitch in amusement. “Alright, just follow my lead.”
Then his mouth is on mine, and my eyes are closing from the overwhelming sensations, and damn—he’s a good kisser.
I feel him everywhere.
Unlike before, there is no clumsy joining. There is no faltering or hesitation. Warren Knight owns me.
Using his grip on my head, he angles me in that perfect way, just as his tongue plunges into my mouth. I gasp around the sudden invasion of him. He teases my tongue. Nips at my lips. Sucks me between his teeth. Moves my head this way and that. Helps to guide my hips as I shamelessly grind against him. Every single thing he does is deliberate, and I respond to him on instinct alone.
Somehow, he got my embarrassed, ignorant self to kiss him back like a boss.
I clutch him by the neck, pull at his black hair, rock back and forth over his cock, all while he devours my mouth and makes me feel things that I never knew were possible.
My entire front is practically glued to him, but I want more. So much more that it hurts. It’s all I can do to hold on and pant between kisses as he tongue fucks me for all I’m worth.
And then suddenly, he’s pulling back, and our kiss ends, and he chuckles at me when I try to recapture his lips.
“We need to stop, Trix,” he says, his voice low and husky, nearly pained.
That sounds like a stupid idea. “Why?” I whine.
Yeah. I guess I get whiny when I’m horny.
“Because all I want to do is fuck you in this car right now, but we’re in front of my building, and you deserve better than that.”
Aww. After that statement, I can’t even be whiny horny anymore. “Fine,” I sigh.
Okay. I’m a little whiny still.