Campus Hottie (Campus)

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he continues.

If he stops, I’ll likely self-combust. He’s barely touched me and already it feels as if I’m on the verge of coming undone. It’s as if my body has been set ablaze and I’m in imminent danger of burning up from the inside out. I’m not ready for this to be over with.

Or for him to tell me it was another mistake.

He shifts until his weight is balanced on one arm as the fingers of his other hand settle on the first pearly button before freeing it from its loop.

Relief rushes from my lungs.

Silently, each subsequent button meets the same fate until all of them have been released and there’s a pale strip of flesh bisecting the right and left sides of my body from my collarbone to my belly button. My heartbeat flutters against my ribcage as his breathing turns labored. Carefully he parts the thin material, baring the lacy cups of my bra. Even in the darkness that swirls around us, I feel the hot burn of his gaze licking over every exposed inch.

And still, it’s not enough.

I need so much more.

“Tell me to stop,” he growls, breaking into the chaotic whirl of my thoughts.

Unable to follow the directive, my teeth sink into my lower lip as I give my head a little shake.

A defeated sound rumbles up from within his chest as one finger trails from the middle of my clavicle, skimming over the front clasp of my bra before halting inches away from my belly button. I can’t help but tremble beneath his touch as his finger gradually slides in the opposite direction. Once he returns to the plastic fastener, his fingers hesitate.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, harsher this time.

I shake my head. There’s no way I can do that.

A furious growl erupts from him as his fingers curl around the plastic before releasing it. Even though the cups spring apart, they continue to cling to the tips of my breasts. His gaze burns into me as he impatiently shifts his weight.

Air gets clogged in my throat as one hand knocks the material aside so that I’m finally exposed. It’s the heady concoction of cool air hitting my naked flesh and his attention trained on me that has my nipple pebbling.

A guttural groan rumbles up from him before he lowers his head and fastens his lips around the tightened peak, drawing it deeply into his mouth. My eyelids feather shut as pleasure explodes inside me, rushing to fill every single cell. My fingers tunnel through his thick hair, curling around his skull in order to keep him in place.

Never have I experienced anything this amazing. Every pull of his lips sends another spike of desire shooting straight to my core. It’s as if there’s an invisible string connecting the two parts of my body. Unable to stay still, I shift impatiently beneath him, trying to find some relief from the avalanche of need that has settled in my core.

Just when it seems like I’ll die from the sensation, he releases my nipple with a soft pop. Chilled air wafts over my damp skin as he sweeps aside the material covering my other breast before giving it the same ardent attention.

As his teeth rake over me, gently biting down on the delicate flesh, a strange mixture of pain-infused pleasure swirls through me, becoming a tempest. A moan works its way from deep inside me before breaking free as I wriggle beneath his muscular body that pins me in place. The feel of his hard length pressing into the V between my thighs has my panties dampening. It leaves me craving something I’ve never experienced before but have always yearned for when it comes to Carson.

Whether he realizes it or not, it’s always been him.

He draws the bud between his lips, giving it one final tug before releasing me. The over-sensitized little peak aches from all of his delicious attention. His mouth drifts across a sea of newly revealed flesh, sinking lower with every caress before sweeping around the indentation of my belly button. Once he reaches the band of my denim skirt, there’s a pause. The air thickens between us as his rapid breaths feather across my shuddering skin.

Everything in me stills as my teeth sink into my lower lip. I’m so afraid this fragile moment will shatter into a thousand jagged pieces. One beat passes, and then another. Slowly he lowers his forehead until it can rest against the quivering muscles of my belly.

“Has another man ever given you an orgasm?”

The rough scrape of his voice is so low and chock-full of need that it strums something deep inside me. Or maybe it’s the intimate question that has a million butterflies exploding inside the confines of my abdomen before winging their way to life.