Game Lover: A Steamy Standalone Instalove - Page 15

“I want it. Of course, I want it. But—”

I lean down and crash my lips against hers.

I can’t let her talk about her father, about how complicated this is.

I can’t let her convince me.

She’s stunned for a moment as I slip my hands down to her ass, pulling her closer as our mouths open and she kisses me back, moaning through the tight press of our lips.

Chapter Nine

Madelyn

I’m kissing Maxton Miller.

I’m kissing Smolder.

My heart glows as his tongue clashes with mine, sending a whole army of tingling sensations coursing over my lips and down through my body. My sex is so wet and ultrasensitive, my clit rubbing raw and needy against my panties.

His hands massage my ass cheeks, groaning through the kiss as he squeezes them together and pulls them together.

I shift against him, driven by instinct, not experience. Because I have zero experience.

Suddenly a thought occurs to me, and I falter.

What if he wants to have sex?

He breaks the kiss off, staring down at me with wide starving eyes.

My anxieties drift away under his intense stare, at least for a moment.

“How did you find me?” I whisper.

“I got your name from our servers,” he says. “Well… your dad did.”

I lean back in his embrace, as he slides his hands up to my lower back, holding me. His touch is electric, pushing through the thin material of my tank top and leaving a burning impression against my skin.

“My dad?”

“Yeah. He said I was getting depressing and grumpy since I’d stopped spending time with Gen… with you, but obviously, he didn’t know that.”

“But if he was the one who saw the file…”

“He didn’t look. No one did, except for me. Ethical concerns, you know.”

I nod, smoothing my hands from his shoulders to his chest. It’s like they move of their own volition, free from the whispering voices inside that tell me this is a trick, it has to be.

Or, if it’s not, things are going to get very complicated with my dad.

My hands don’t care about any of that as they move over his pecs. They’re rock solid through his shirt, so hard they could snap my fingernails.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper, even as my sex pulses warmly, so wet I can hardly take it.

“I know,” he groans. “Fuck, Maddie, I know…”

He kisses me again, harder this time. I gasp and squeeze onto his chest, digging my nails in, feeling them bend under his unyielding firmness. His hand slips around my body, gliding over my belly and down between my legs.

I urge myself to tell him to stop. It’s not just dad.

Where does Maxton think this is going?

I need time to process everything before we have sex. If we can have sex.

But my body doesn’t give a damn. I tremble against him when he slides his hand down my shorts, his touch grinding down on my clit.

My legs threaten to buckle as he starts to rub me, immediately forceful, like he can’t bring himself to wait and build up slowly. I shift with his movements, moving my hips, bucking against him as he rubs faster and faster.

“Fuck. No.”

He steps back. Even if I was just partly hoping for this, disappointment grips me. I open my mouth to tell him that I want him to keep going. My clit feels engorged, demanding attention, my folds sizzling and receptive, my hole soaked and ready.

“No?” I whisper.

He looks at me and tilts his head, as though he’s reading my expression. “I meant… No, I don’t want to waste your perfect fucking orgasm. I need to taste you, Maddie.”

“T-Taste me?” I stutter.

He nods firmly and grabs onto my shoulders, guiding me down to the couch. I sit with a heavy thump, my legs grateful not to have to support my trembling body anymore.

“Yes.” He looms over me. “Taste that sweet young pussy of yours. I can sense how close you are. I want you to come for me when I lick that hot young slit. Can you do that for me, like a good girl?”

My pussy almost erupts at his words. I push my legs together, needing to feel some relief there, even if it’s just the pressure of my thighs rubbing together.

“I think so.”

He smirks and falls to his knees. His hands dart up to my shorts and grab the waistband, roughly pulling them down, my panties all tangled up as he drags the bundle down my knees, and over my ankles, tossing them to the floor.

Grabbing my thighs in his powerful hands, he pries my legs apart, staring down at my sex as his eyes grow wider and wider. “Fucking hell. Your pussy is perfect. You’re already so wet.”

“Is that good?” I whimper.

He snaps his gaze to mine. “Yes, it’s good, you horny girl. How close are you?”

I moan, shaking my head. “I don’t know. It feels so… Ah, ah.”

Tags: Flora Ferrari Erotic
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