Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

Dragging him behind me, I pull him into my bedroom and move to turn on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in soft light. I make my way to the foot of the bed, where I left him standing. When I reach him, I look up at him while my fingers tug at the button of his jeans. It’s harder than it looks. I yank at it ‘til it decides to cooperate. When it’s finally free, I slump in relief. He cups my cheek and I lean into it as I slowly pull on his zipper. And, at long last, he’s open to me.

Turning my head, I breathe into his palm, planting a wet kiss right in the center of it. Carefully, I reach inside the open flap of his jeans. My fingers wrap around his boxer-covered length, my core clenches at his sudden intake of breath, and I’m mildly alarmed.

He’s got a bratwurst down there.

It’s thick and long, and burning up. I want to feel skin-on-skin, but I know I need to make this last. My fingers tighten around him and begin to move up and down slowly. Up and down, pulling and squeezing as I do. His hand still at my cheek, I turn, part my lips, and take his thumb into my mouth all the way, sucking in time with my tugs. A low groan is torn from him, and by the sound of it, he’s in pain.

“Sit.” This comes out so huskily it doesn’t even sound like me. He does what I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, and I have yet to remove my hand from him, fearing if I do, he’ll change his mind.

Stupid moral man!

As soon as he’s seated, I release my hold on him, reach up, and pull down his jeans. They come off easily. I don’t remove the boxers. They’re black and silky, and he looks amazing in them. With his back to the lamp, the front of his body is shadowed. I kneel in front of him, undo the button on the front of his boxers, and look into his eyes. “I’ve missed this,” I whisper. Reaching inside the slit, I take hold of his hot, hard length and he hisses. Rather than shy away, I grip him tighter and pull him through the opening.

All I can do is blink.

It’s magnificent. The skin feels soft, but in the dim light, I see his cock and swallow hard. It’s angry looking. The length is rock-hard, veined, and the tip is red. A single pearl of precum spills out from his slit. I repeat myself, quieter this time, “I’ve missed this.” Then, I lower my head and gently lick up the stray drop. The sweet saltiness hits me like a shot of adrenalin. I open my mouth as wide as I can and take him into my mouth.

I moan around him. He groans in unison. We’re a symphony of sex, and it’s making me hotter than hell. I suck him as deep as I can, then slide back up to the tip. The next time I suck him in, I hollow my cheeks. His growl fuels me. “Fuck, baby. That’s it. Suck me hard.”

Running my hands up his thighs, I scratch them lightly on the way down as I bob my head, reveling in the clean taste of him. Suddenly, I’m knocked back as he stands, quick as lightning. Sitting flat on my ass, I blink up at him, and then glower, “What the fuckity fuck?”

Eyes closed, teeth gritted, squeezing his cock tighter than I’ve ever seen a man

squeeze one before, he mutters, “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Please, shut up.”

Oh.

It hits me.

He’s going to come.

My pride smiles and puffs out its chest while strutting around like a peacock. Panting, he squeezes himself tighter, groans, and then tips his head back, mumbling, “Sorry, baby. Gonna come. Shit. Sorry.”

He drops his head, eyes apologetic. I quickly move to kneel in front of him once more. There’s no need to explain my intentions when I reach up to pull down the cups of my bra, exposing my breasts. Biting my lip, my fingertips glide over the smooth skin of one breast while I tweak the nipple of the other. I watch through hooded eyes as his taut stomach contracts as he tries to remain in control. Suddenly, his gorgeous face turns blissful. He replaces the firm hold on his cock with a looser grip. His lips part, his breathing heavies, and his entire body stills and then shakes as a low growl escapes him.

Wet warmth hits my chest. Once, twice, three then four times. The wetness slides down, over my breasts, in-between my breasts, over one nipple. My pussy convulses. I’m deliciously wet.

Shit.

I’m already there.

As in there.

My spine tingles and I clamp my legs together as my mouth rounds in an O.

Max starts, “Shit, I’m so sorry, Lena. I—” When he spots my expression, he stills. “What’s happening here?”

My eyes roll into the back of my head as pleasure gently pulses through me. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Please, shut up.”

Eyes closed, I feel him step closer to me. “Are you—?”

Gritting my teeth, I hiss out, “Yes,” as I reach down to cup myself. I breathe out, “Oh shit. No. This wasn’t meant to happen.”

Hands under my arms lift me onto my bed. As soon as my back hits the bed, a large, hard body covers me. He reaches down and lifts my skirt around my waist. In record time, he pulls my panties down my legs ‘til I’m free. Roughly, he grips my legs and parts them, lying between them and placing the tip of his cock at my bud of happiness. He rocks against me and sparks fly. “Damn. You’re so wet. I got you, baby. Let go.”

My breath hitches. I grip his waist so hard that my nails mark him. I wrap my legs around his thighs and grind against him, hard and uninhibited. Chest to come-covered chest, there is apparently no place for inhibitions in my bedroom right now. My soft breasts pressing against his broad chest does something to me. I whimper. Taking my lead, he watches me closely through hooded eyes, but thrusts against me faster and firmer. Every time his hot, hard length slides over me, my clit sings.

It takes thirty seconds for him to take me there.