Fill Me (Rouse Me 3)

Like hell.

I run my tongue over her again and again. Her legs press against my ears. Her back arches. Her hands tug at my hair, but I don't stop. I lick her, tasting her as her groans get louder and louder. Until they're screams that could wake the neighbors three floors away.

She arches one more time. Her nails dig into my shoulders--a sharp pain I wouldn't part with for anything. I lick her again, and again, and she comes, screaming one last time.

She collapses on the bed, taking only a moment to catch her breath. Then she pulls me back on top of her, parting her legs.

She wraps her hand around my cock and guides me insider her. Damn, she's so much wetter now. And she's panting, squirming, mo

aning.

Her hands are on my ass, pulling me deeper as I thrust into her. The ache inside me builds. She's so wet, so warm, so tight around me.

She moans, her head thrown back, her nails sharp against my skin. I drag my lips against her neck, her collarbone, her chest. Her nipples are hard, and she's panting and digging her nails into my ass.

I bring my mouth to her nipples and suck gently. Pleasure courses to my hips. I'm so hard, and it feels so damn good inside her.

Alyssa wraps her arms and legs around me, pulling me closer. I thrust into her. The ache inside me builds and builds. It's almost too much to take.

I bring my lips to hers and plunge my tongue deep in her mouth. She kisses back, desperate and needy.

I can barely take it. I press my body against hers. Thrust into her one last time. And I come, releasing everything inside her.

She collapses on the bed and I collapse next to her, returning to our earlier position--her back against my chest, my arm around her waist.

We lie like that for a long time.

She pulls my arm tighter around her. "I shouldn't have freaked out like that."

I press my lips into her neck, and melt back into her. She takes deep breaths, her chest rising and falling with dramatic heaves.

"I wish I could say she hasn't always been like that, but..." It's barely more than a whisper, and there's so much pain in it. "You probably think it's pathetic."

"You're kidding, right?"

She shakes her head. Damn. How can she be so hard on herself?

"Then tell me. How is it pathetic?" I ask.

She takes another deep breath. I run my fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face. God. She really is beautiful, but there's so much pain in her eyes.

I have to take some of that pain away.

She turns, her gaze moving to the ceiling. "When Mom got home from work, she wasn't really there. For a while, when I was a kid, we'd eat dinner together. TV dinners usually, or maybe pizza delivery. But it was always in front of the TV. It's not the most tragic thing, not the hardest. But it was the only time we ever spent together."

I press my fingers against her palm. She leans into her shoulder, wrapping her fingers around my hand.

"I knew better than to ask her for any favors. If I needed school supplies, I'd walk to the store with the cash she kept in the dresser. It wasn't so bad. I always liked the aisles of notebooks and pens. I had so many damn pens." She takes a deep breath, her gaze moving over the room.

She's had to do everything on her own for so long.

Alyssa turns towards me, her eyes connecting with mine. "This story presents one of your least favorite people in a favorable light."

"My father?"

"That would make perfect sense." She rolls her eyes. "No, it's Ryan. Of course."

"He was your best friend."