The Sophomore (College Years 2) - Page 116

He reaches for me, the two of us toppling on top of the bed, his mouth finding mine as his hands find my breasts. He strokes and teases, his fingers and his tongue, trapping me by slinging a heavy leg over mine, so I can’t move away.

Not that I would. I want this. I want him. His hands on me, his mouth on me. All over me. His hot skin pressing into mine. He rolls me over on my back, hovering above me, the heavy weight of his cock resting against my stomach, leaving a wet spot. Feeling brave, I reach for him, circling my fingers around his thick girth, giving him an experimental stroke.

Jackson moans into my mouth, his kisses turning ravenous.

Bolder, I do it again, eliciting another agonizing groan. I pick up my pace, confidence racing through my veins as I stroke him in earnest. His hips start to move as he devours my mouth and I want to laugh in triumph, I feel so good.

He wants this. He wants me. All these years I didn’t think I mattered to him and look at him now. All over me, his c

ock in my hands, his mouth locked with mine. I always fantasized about this moment, never truly believing it would happen. And look at us now. We’re finally doing this.

It’s happening. And it’s everything I could’ve ever dreamed.

“Fuck,” he rasps against my lips, shifting his pelvis away from my seeking hand. “You keep that up, I’m going to come all over your fingers.”

“I want you to,” I say, sounding greedy—because I am. “Please.”

He lifts his head, staring down at me with a knowing glint in his gaze. “How about you come all over my face instead?”

I should be embarrassed. Tell him to stop. But I don’t. I nod eagerly instead, smiling up at him. “Okay.”

He laughs, shifting down my body, blazing a trail of hot kisses all over my skin. I lie there and take it, my body seemingly melting into the mattress, resting my hand on top of his head, threading my fingers through his hair. He kisses and licks at my breasts, drawing one nipple into his mouth and sucking, his cheeks hollowing out. I watch, fascinated, breathless as he takes his time, lavishing equal attention upon both of my breasts, every pull of his mouth causing an answering pull between my thighs.

He moves lower, his lips skimming my stomach. A shaky sigh leaves me and he glances up, those blue eyes seeming to penetrate my soul as he stares at me, his hands reaching for my panties and tugging downward. He pulls them off my legs, and without warning, his fingers find me, parting my folds, stroking my delicate wet skin. A choked gasp sticks in my throat.

“So wet,” he whispers, just before he ducks his head and continues on the journey he started at my chest.

I part my thighs, eager to feel his mouth on me. He settles himself in between my legs, searching me with his fingers, his eyes never straying from the spot he sang about onstage mere hours ago.

“Just as pink as I remember,” he murmurs, his warm breath wafting across me, making me jump. I’m dying to feel his mouth on my flesh and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as I try to calm my racing heart.

His lips touch me. Gently at first. Exploring. I slowly open my eyes to find he’s still watching me, the lower half of his face buried against my pussy. All I can see are those beautiful blue eyes watching me, making me feel beautiful too.

I see him.

And he sees me too.

He licks me. Laps at me gently, searching, teasing. A tremor moves through me when he flicks at my clit with his tongue, reminding me I’m already so close to the edge, and it would take nothing for me to fall. I reach up behind me, wrapping my arms around a pillow to anchor myself, but it doesn’t help. I’m floating. Rising above the bed, my entire body made of air, my heart racing so hard I’m scared it’ll fall out of my chest.

At the same time he wraps his lips around my clit, he pushes a single finger inside of me. A low moan fills the room, and I realize it’s me. I’m moaning as he begins to thrust. In and out. Over and over. Driving me wild with his tongue and lips, that finger.

Oh shit, that finger.

“Tight,” he whispers, slowing his movements. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not—” a whimper leaves me when he sucks hard on my clit, “—hurting me.”

He lifts away from me completely, his finger still inside my body, his knowing gaze watching me carefully. His lips and chin are shiny with my juices and he seems very, very pleased with himself. “You close?”

I nod. “I-I think so.”

He smiles. Sticks his tongue out and laps at me, the gesture lewd. Dirty. Leaving me breathless. “You like it when I do that?”

“Yes,” I whisper, closing my eyes so I can savor the sensations racing through me. Opening them once again so I can watch him.

I always want to watch him.

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells me, just before he does. I squirm, the stretch stinging only for a moment before my body relaxes. I start to move with his hand, enjoying the rhythm. Chasing it. He rises up, his fingers still between my legs, his mouth finding me as we kiss sloppily, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. I suck on it eagerly.

Tags: Monica Murphy College Years Romance
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