CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Becca
I feel so exposed, my pussy aching and pulsing from the orgasm, my thighs tender from his hungry touch.
He reaches for his belt with such confidence. His eyes are glazed over like he’s completely lost to the lust.
My core screams at me to let him lead the way, lying here as he thunders inside me.
But then I think of Alex, how this is it, the line will be crossed. There’s no going back.
Or is that an excuse to hide my nervousness?
I don’t know, only that I can’t….
“I can’t have sex, not tonight,” I whisper. “I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve led you on. I should’ve made it clear sooner.”
“Stop,” he snarls, lurching forward like the predator he is.
He slips his hand up my thigh, finding my core, driving his finger inside of me again.
It’s crazy how quickly my body responds to him. It’s like my pussy’s already addicted to him, my walls fluttering warmly, my clit tingling in anticipation.
“You don’t have to make excuses,” he growls. “I accept it. You can’t go all the way. Fine. But you made an offer, Becca bee. You said you wanted to do something for me.”
“I don’t know what,” I whimper as he keeps moving his finger.
The pattern of his fingertip makes me sparkle, my body pulsing in a way I’ve never felt before…but that’s not true.
I felt it when he was between my legs, yet each time, it feels fresh and new. It’s like I’ve never experienced it before.
He snarls and leans over me, bringing his lips to my cheek, kissing with surprising softness.
“I want your pussy so fucking badly,” he says.
My chest pumps as my heartbeat picks up, nerves threatening to drain me.
I wish I could be the sort of woman who’d throw myself at him, who’d sit on top of him and confidently stare into his eyes as our bodies fuse, as I dig my fingernails into his shoulders and mount him confidently.
“I want you,” I whisper. “But I’ve never done it before. This is all moving so fast.”
Most importantly – and I won’t add this part – I don’t know if he feels the same as me. Maybe he wants some quick sex, and that’s it. He’ll forget I exist.
He’ll stop caring if he ever did, to begin with.
“I know,” he says. “And I respect that. I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to.”
My moans grow breathier when he moves his finger again, this time the other way, swirling motions that make my hips twitch, driven by instinct.
“Get on your knees then,” he says, stepping away. “Get those gorgeous tits out for me. I’m going to explode, Becca bee. I can’t take it anymore. You drive me crazy.”
I do as he says, eager to be able to give him some pleasure even if I can’t go all the way with him. My knees sink into the plush carpet, my entire body alight as I stare down at him.
He looms over me, his hand going to his crotch again, his body looking like it’s going to burst out of his clothes. I’ve never seen somebody so close to the edge.
It’s like he’s ready to fight or fuck in equal measure like this self-assured, confident, clever man has been reduced to his primal need.
No, not been reduced.