The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

“I have to have a taste,” he says, turning me to face his bed before pinning my hands on the mattress. And then he’s exploring, covering me with calloused hands. “Jesus, Clarissa, you thought I could want someone else? Can’t you feel how much I want you?” He presses his cock against me, making me gasp. “I’ve been losing my fucking mind, trying to hold back.” He runs his hands along my thighs before massaging my ass with his palms.

“Every time I stroke my cock, every time I come, it’s with your name on my lips,” he murmurs before his tongue darts out, covering the material gathered at my soaked slit. My back bows at the feel of him as he continues to taunt me without enough contact. Fire trails from my head to my toes as he ravages me with mouth and hands, my erratic breaths, and his groans the only sounds in the room.

“I’m trying to give you what you want,” he says, between licks pulling at the material with his teeth and nudging my legs further apart with his nose.

“Troy, please,” I plead as he lifts the string and runs the flat part of his tongue in a complete sweep down my core. I damn near collapse on my hands as he fucks me with his tongue. I’m already on the verge, the friction of my nipples on his comforter causing another spike of pleasure as my moans grow louder.

“So sexy.” Palming my ass, he spreads me as his tongue darts out, the material becoming the bane of my existence, his flick rhythmic as he drives me to the brink.

“Take them off,” I beg as he plunges deeper before lowering to suck my clit through the silk.

“Jesus, Troy, please. Please!”

I lift to remove my thong and get rewarded with a slap on the ass.

“Don’t you fucking dare. I’ve been dreaming about this for years.”

“Please, Troy, I need you.”

“No,” he says, kissing down the length of my back, his hand snaking around my waist. His fingers dip inside my panties, sliding between my lips to massage my clit. “I need you. You’re all I can think about anymore. No one else. No one,” he says, running his tongue along the shell of my ear. “I haven’t touched another woman since that day we fought on that lawn, and I don’t want to.” I turn my head and meet his lips as he brings me into his kiss. Moth and flame, our mouths collide over and over, our hunger consuming us both. He carries me with him, turning me over, his eyes roaming the whole of me. He’s still fully dressed as I lay helplessly bare, breasts exposed, in a soaked thong.

“Everything I kiss, everything I touch tonight, now belongs to me. You hear me?”

I nod.

“Words, Clarissa.”

“Yes, I want that too. Troy, please,” I reach for him, and he shakes his head, using a finger to tug one side of my thong just past my hip, his eyes intent on mine.

“Did you break up with him for me?”

I moan, frenzied, as he continues the working of his fingers.

“Clarissa,” he growls, demanding an answer.

“Yes,” I rasp out. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yes, and we’re doing it right,” he murmurs before running a trail of kisses down to my navel. I grip his head as he begins to inch down toward the other side of my thong.

When his lips finally drift back to mine, we’re tangled tongues inhaling each other’s moans. He pulls away, running a finger up my slit before hooking the center of my panties and sliding them down. Kneeling between my thighs, his eyes intent, he darts his tongue out in a double tap on my swollen clit.

“This what you want?”

“Yes!”

He licks me smoothly before thrusting his tongue inside me fully.

“Troy.” I lift his name, my voice hoarse, the ache consuming me.

“Perfect,” he whispers before hooking his arms around my thighs and opening me wider. Dire need courses through me just as he lowers his head and pulls in my clit between his lips and sucks. Hand over my mouth, I do my best to muffle my scream as he drinks me, his tongue vibrating as he hums on my pussy. Drunk on his licks, I crest on the wave of my orgasm just as he pushes his fingers inside me, twisting them in beckoning. His palm pins me flat to the bed while he relentlessly eats me until I’m gasping his name over and over. The shockwaves steal my voice as I convulse on his tongue, and he laps it up hungrily. The aftershock is so intense, I shake uncontrollably as he continues with the thrash of his tongue until I’m fighting for reprieve, too sensitive for more. I push at his head in an attempt to close my legs as he keeps me hostage, fucking me with his fingers, sucking my clit as I cry out to him over and over. When I’m spent again, he pulls away, satisfied, the lusty gleam in his eyes all I can see as he wipes his mouth. Lifting to hover above me, he studies me as my breathing evens, stroking my face, my hair, before leaning in to take my lips and kissing me deeply. Reaching between us, I start to unbutton his jeans, and he stops my movement.

“Not yet. The next time I push inside of you, there won’t be a doubt in your mind about me. Because I want all of it.” He presses warm lips to my chest, where my heart pounds and again to the side of my temple, erasing all doubts of where we stand, ending our discussion.

“Troy, let me touch you,” I whisper, palming his girth. He pulls my hand from between us and kisses it with the shake of his head before easily hauling us to sit where we have a clear view of Dante. He’s still sleeping soundly as I lay in Troy’s arms just as snow begins to fall.

“We’ll do it right this time,?

? he murmurs again, pressing another kiss to my temple. “For us, and for him.”