Stir Me (Rouse Me 2)

She shakes her head. "You always want to talk." She digs her hands into my hair, and she looks at me with those fuck me eyes. "Do you think, this time, we can talk tomorrow?"

"Ally..."

Her eyes connect with mine. There's so much need in her expression. It's a plea for release. Then her eyes are closed and her lips are on mine. She tastes like mint, like her toothpaste.

She pulls back, her eyes connecting with mine. "Please."

She kisses me again. Her lips part and I slide my tongue into her mouth.

My body floods with heat. There is no sense in talking now. Not when we could do something so much better.

Her hands find my back. They dig into me, pressing my shirt against my skin. She's desperate. She needs this much more than she needs a conversation.

She pulls back. Her clear blue eyes connect with mine. "It's okay if you don't want to. I should get to sleep eventually."

But she still shifts her body into mine. She wraps her legs around my hips, her hands still digging into my back.

I smile. "You aren't even trying to convince me."

"Uh-huh." She nods, sinking her body into mine. "If I wanted to convince you, I'd step up my wardrobe."

I slide my hand under her T-shirt, my T-shirt actually. It's clinging to her, highlighting every inch of her chest.

"I like this wardrobe." I drag my fingertips over her soft skin. She feels so good.

She arches her back, fighting a deep desire to close her eyes. "But you'd prefer I get rid of it?"

I nod and slide my fingertips over her nipples. She groans, squeezing her thighs around me. I cup her breasts, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples slowly. She's putty in my hands, moaning and squirming and digging her hands into my back.

She kisses me again. It's hard and desperate, a demand. I squeeze her tighter, rub her harder. She moans into my mouth.

My blood rushes to my cock. All of her is soft and sweet, and I need to drink in that need. I need to feel her shaking and screaming around me.

She pulls her lips away from mine and brings them to my ear. "Fuck me, Luke. I need you inside me."

Jesus. That never gets old.

I pull her shirt, my shirt, over her head. She shudders, arching into me. Her eyes are on fire. She wants me. She wants me badly.

I throw away any intentions of teasing her until she begs me. She's already begging me. She's already desperate. And I need to be inside her, to make her feel so

good she could die.

She kisses me, hard. Her tongue is in my mouth, her hands are on my shoulders. I slide my hands over the curve of her waist, soaking in the feeling of her soft skin.

My hands find her hips, and I pull her boxers to her knees. She shifts to help me, then kicks them off her feet.

I take a long look at her. Her delicate neck. Her lush tits. The dramatic curve of her hips. She's perfect and she's mine. She's in my lap, her thighs pressed into my hips, her eyes on me like she can't wait to fuck me.

I drag my hands back to her hips, and I pull her closer.

She groans, shifting into me, squeezing me tighter. "You're wearing too many clothes."

I nod and I press my lips against her neck. She sighs. Digs her nails into my shoulders again. It's sharp, a tiny hint of what I'll feel when I make her come.

I drag my fingertips over her thighs. She groans, holding on to me like she'll fall over if she loosens her grip. I stroke her inner thighs as softly as I can. Until she's shaking.

"Luke..."