Good Girl (Alphahole Roommates 2)

His eyes ignite and I’m quickly on my back on the couch, him climbing up my body, then pressing a rock-hard erection against my pelvis.

My black wrap dress is soon unwrapped, revealing a black bra and panties. Austin yanks one cup of my bra down and draws my nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it.

My legs part further and he reaches down, gliding his fingers down the seam of my panties, then dipping his fingers under the elastic.

His fingers glide through my seam and then they’re inside me, crooking against that bundle of nerves in my inner walls. I jolt and wrap my legs around his lower back.

“I want inside you bare,” Austin tells me.

My lips part while I nod and then I’m nipping at his bottom lip with my teeth.

“You want me inside you?” he asks.

I nod and squirm under him.

“Are you my good girl, Miss Sweetheart?”

“Oh yeah, I am, Sir Groucho the Third.”

He smiles wide and then his smile slips as he drives his length into me, expression as serious as a heart attack.

He pulls back three quarters and then slams inside again before his head descends and our mouths connect.

As our tongues dance, my fingers grip his back, my nails likely leaving marks. I ease up at the thought of hurting him and he immediately leans over and whispers into my ear.

“I’m crazy about you.”

I nod. “You make me crazy in all the ways.”

He laughs and it feels great that he does that while he’s inside me.

He sifts his hand through my hair. “You’re what I’ve been looking for. I just met you at my worst and it took time to see through the anger.”

“I met you at my worst, too. And you’ve made everything better since then. All the stuff that’s better for me, it’s because of you.”

“Not everything. Your writing helps. It gives you the outlet. It gave me the insight into you. If you hadn’t written that, I might be missing out on everything that I love about you.”

I fight the urge to swoon.

“If you hadn’t been a snoop and on my computer, I’d still be writing about you. I’d probably be on chapter seventy-nine by now.” I laugh.

“I may have met you at what you thought was your worst, but since then, I’ve seen so many things that are just… the best.”

“That wasn’t even my worst, though. My worst was being alone in a house with my dead dad and having nobody to come sit with me. You showed me I wasn’t alone. You made every part of dealing with this past few days a hundred times more doable.”

“Not to flip you out but gotta say, I’m really hoping I get to make babies with you, Jada.” His eyes have gone sad. “Only you.”

“I’ll love a baby whether it’s ours or just yours, Austin. You don’t have to doubt that for a second. But that stuff happened to you, not me, and I don’t imagine it’ll be easiest to decide what to do so just know that I’m going to be by your side through all of that.”

He flips so I’m on top. I rock gently back and forth while gliding my hands from his hips up to his shoulders.

“I’m falling in love with you, Jada.” He puts his fingers between my legs and I rock deeper, harder, biting my lips.

“I already fell. I just worried it’d hurt when I landed, but you caught me and I survived.”

I bite my lip and then I rock faster. I rock faster as his fingers speed up. He rises to sitting and grabs my hips, making his cock go deeper and then sucks one of my nipples into his mouth while rubbing harder on my clit and I cry out, fingers in his hair.

I’m floating in euphoria and then I’m actually floating because I’m being carried to the window. He stands me on my feet, turns me, and places my palms against the window.

“I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna happen.” He drives up into me from behind and I stare at the city below. It doesn’t look scary. It looks like a dream sequence. I’m floating. I’m floating and Austin’s got me and I’m not going to fall. It won’t hurt. I’m fine.

His hand is banded around my chest as he drives into me from behind, his other hand cupping between my legs.

I look down and my belly pitches hard at the sight of the ground below before the room spins.

Does anyone out there see us? He covers all the really personal parts and I wonder if he does that just in case. The blinds are only open the width of our bodies and it’s daylight so chances are small.

“You good?” he asks, and his voice calms me.

“I think I’m great,” I reply.

“You’re pale. I’m getting you to the bed, but good job, baby. I love that you trusted me with that.”