37. Lissie
Chapter 37
Lissie
“Can I smother him in his sleep?”
T ossing and turning, I lie there for what feels like hours. I’m mad at him. How could he come out here to see me and not want to talk to me? Did I do something that I’m unaware of? I mean, I don’t think I did, but who knows?
I feel the heat from his body as he lies dead-still on his back next to me. My hands are itching to reach out and touch him, but I’m not sure I want to touch someone who clearly doesn’t want to be around me.
So why did he agree to share a bed with me?
He could have gone to the couch.
Maybe I should have only given him the option of the couch.
It would have been easier than dealing with the torture of him lying next to me.
“Your thoughts are so damn loud,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, well, you’re annoying,” I snap before I turn over to my side and give him my back.
“Pretty Lady.” I ignore him. “We can’t do anything until we talk. I have something to tell you. But I don’t want to tell you yet because it will ruin this vacation. For everyone.”
I huff. “So you decided it was smart that we share a bed?”
“As I recall, that was your idea. And, of course, I’m going to pick sleeping next to you rather than on a couch.”
So he’s here to visit me to tell me something, but he refuses to do so until the end because he doesn’t want to ruin our weekend? That seems a bit selfish. I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t think that we would sleep together in more ways than one.
I have missed his touch.
I have dreamed of it.
And I was greatly looking forward to having it again.
I hate that he’s ruined me for all other men without even knowing he did so.
When I agreed to go back to his house that first night, I didn’t think this would be the outcome—that a few nights with him would have me hooked. I wasn’t aware that you could crave a single touch as much as I crave his.
It should be illegal.
Tossing and turning, I’m only getting madder with each passing second. I hear him breathing next to me, and before I explode, I turn to face him. He turns his head to the side and looks me dead in the eye. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I’ve known that since the moment I first saw you,” he finally says.
And that’s all it takes.
Before I can stop myself, my hand is on his face, feeling the slight stubble before my lips move forward and come crashing down on his. He doesn’t pull away, and he doesn’t waste any time kissing me back. Our lips move hungrily. He’s holding back, but when I want something, I’ll take it.
Still cupping his cheek, I crawl on top of him until both my hands are on his face and I’m straddling him. I settle myself over him and feel all of him beneath me. It’s evident he wants me as much as I want him.
Fuck what he has to say to me—I couldn’t care less right now.
Our bodies want exactly the same thing. At least one of us has to admit it.
His hands grip my hips, and I feel his fingertips digging in as if he’s trying to restrain himself, but that’s the last thing I want him to do, so I start grinding. I never said I was a good girl. I want him to do bad, bad things to me, and I’m desperate for him to do them right now.
I haven’t been with anyone since him.
I love that I can kiss him as easily as it is to breathe air. Our lips haven’t broken apart, my hips are moving with more urgency than ever before, and I’m sure his fingers are about to leave marks on my skin.
I move my hands from his face, moving them down until I hit his chest, and then I drag my nails down until they reach the waistband of his boxers. He tries to break the kiss. I guess I can tell he wants to say something, but as he moves his lips, I just follow them with my own. He huffs and grabs my face, kissing me with so much fucking hunger that I’m sure my lips are going to be bruised after this.
His tongue slides into my mouth, and it dances with mine. With the distraction of the kiss, I manage to pull down the waistband of his boxers. All I have on is a nightgown and a thin pair of cotton panties. As soon as I free him, I wrap one hand around his shaft and start stroking. He swears against my mouth and breaks the kiss. When he pulls back, those dark eyes lock on mine, and I see the heat, the danger that lurks behind them. But it does nothing to stop me. I’d gladly dance with any of his devils, and when I’m done, I’ll sit on their faces so they can tell me what a good girl I am.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.” He groans. But as he says it, his lips touch mine again. “I tried to be good, to do the right thing—”
“Fuck the right thing. Fuck me already, Milo.” I see a spark in his eyes as my words register, and he tries to shake his head again, but I just tighten my hand around his cock, which makes him hiss. Before I know it, he has the blankets off both of us, and then, in one swift movement, his arm wraps around my lower back, and he flips me so I’m under him with my legs wrapped around his waist. I giggle at the action, and a sinful, sexy smirk appears on his lips at the sound.
He reaches for my nightgown and slides it all the way up my body, ever so slowly, taking his time, eyeing each and every piece of me until my tits are exposed. He leans down and places gentle kisses on them before I pull the nightgown off over my head. I try to move my hips upward to reach him, but he merely holds me down with one hand on my lower abdomen and tsks at me.
“Are you sure?” he asks, just before he leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth. I nod like a madwoman in answer. “I don’t have a condom, but I’m clean,” he says. “Last time I was with someone…” When he pauses, I stiffen, waiting for him to finish. “It was you.” I relax and beam at him.
“I’m on the pill.” He nods, licking his lips before his gaze tracks down to where his hand is on my stomach, just above my panties.
“Well, these will have to go.” He pulls the waistband over my hip and releases it, letting it snap back against my skin. “I think I’ll keep them, though. You soaked them.” His eyes find mind as he drops his head to my panties and bites the side with his teeth. He crawls down my body, taking my trapped panties as he goes.
I lift my leg and let him slip them off, and then he stands and removes his boxers.
And he’s naked in front of me.
In all his beautiful fucking glory.
“Are you sure?” he asks again.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He steps back and takes a seat on my pink sofa in the corner of the room. I’m sure my expression shows my confusion.
As he sits there, staring at me, he fists his cock and starts stroking it up and down. He licks his lips before he says, “Stand up.” I do as he says, then take a step toward him, but he holds up a hand and says, “I didn’t say you could move. I said stand up.” I halt my movements and wait to see what comes next. “Hands and knees, now.” I follow his order. When I’m in position, I see him grip his cock a little tighter, and then he throws my panties at me. They drop in front of me, and he nods to them. “Now pick them up with your teeth and bring them to me.”
I would like to say this is the part where I’d get grossed out and tell him to fuck off.
And normal me would.
But horny me? She is a whole different person, and she wants to play whatever game this man wants.
I grab the panties in my hand, and he tsks again.
“Drop them.”
“I was going to put them in my mouth,” I argue.
“Pick them up with your teeth.” I huff and snatch them up between my teeth. When I lift my head, I note he’s smiling. “Now, crawl.” The hand on his cock pauses its stroking, and he licks his lips.
I take my time as I crawl to him. I feel myself getting wetter at his request. The need to have him is almost overwhelming, and the sight before me as he touches himself is almost too much.
Almost.
When I reach him, he removes his hand from his cock and taps his leg. I sit up on my knees, and he leans forward and takes my panties with his mouth, right in the crotch area. I see his devilish smirk peeking out from behind the material.
“What do you want?” he asks, holding my panties in his hand. “Use words.” He drums his fingers on his leg.
“You,” I say, but my gaze falls to his cock.
“No, you don’t. What do you really want?” he asks again, more insistent this time.
“I want to sit down on that and move,” I manage to get out.
“And what is that ?” He reaches forward and puts a finger under my chin, lifting it so we are eye-to-eye. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”
“Your cock,” I whisper. “Buried so fucking deep inside me that I forget my own name.”
His hand drops from my face, and he sits back, his arms stretching out along the back of the couch. He nods to his cock and offers, “Take what you want.”
At first, I’m not sure if it’s a trick, and I hesitate for a moment until I see the seriousness in his eyes. I stand up, then straddle him, holding myself above him. I look down between us and slowly drop my hips until I can feel him at my entrance. I release a shaky breath as the tip enters me, and I can’t even look at him right now. I’m too busy concentrating on fulfilling my every need with him. I push down a little farther, and my head drops back, my hair falling over my bare back. My chest pushes forward, and I reach for the back of the couch to brace myself, but instead, I grip his wrists.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters, and my head shoots up, and I see his eyes focused solely on my pussy as I drop lower and lower until I take as much of him as possible.
“I—” Words fail me.
“Sit,” he growls.
“I—”
“ Sit ,” he commands.
I do as he says, taking him all in. I have to adjust to the size of him before I can even think about moving. He leans forward, my hands still clamping on his wrists, and takes my bottom lip into his mouth and bites it gently.
I’m not really sure what it is about Milo, but he consumes me.
He isn’t even touching me right now, except for his teeth on my lips, but I can feel him everywhere. I grab his hands and place them on my breasts. Instantly, he cups them, and when my eyes meet his, our noses are almost touching. His eyes trace my face, landing on my lips before they move up and lock with mine again. I wonder what he sees when he looks into my eyes because when I look into his, I see so many possibilities and so much danger, but none of that will keep me away right now.
“Move,” he says.
Instead of lifting up and down, I push him back farther into the couch and start to rock my hips. He hisses at the movement but doesn’t stop me. His hands play with my breasts before he dips low and takes a nipple into his mouth.
My hands land behind me, on his knees, and my back arches as I rock. He thrusts up, meeting my every move so he can be as deep as possible, but each movement I make hits all the perfect spots. My clit rubs against him with each motion, his cock hitting my G-spot deep inside of me and his hands and mouth working my breasts.
“Quiet, your friend is sleeping,” he mumbles around my breast.
Before I can respond, I feel the buildup about to take me, and a small scream starts to let loose. But he’s quick. He lifts a hand and covers my mouth with it, muffling the scream, but it still escapes anyway. When I slow my rocking, he puts his other hand on my hip and takes over. And I feel another orgasm rising. That can’t be possible, though. How am I just coming down from one to be going back up again?
He doesn’t remove his hand from my mouth as he continues. In fact, he rocks me until I’m screaming into his hand yet again. But this time, when I come, it is more intense than the last time. He leans forward and bites my nipple, making me grab his head and hold him to me. His hand falls from my mouth, and he now has hold of both my hips.
“Your pussy craves me.” He leans in to whisper, “Can you feel it?”
And I do.
I feel all of it.
I know when he comes because his mouth finds mine, and he kisses me hard. And he doesn’t stop until both of us are spent and done.
“Milo.”
“Hmm?” he hums against my lips.
“Don’t not touch me again,” I tell him, and he pulls back and looks at me. He pushes a strand of hair from my face and locks eyes with me.
“It was just as hard for me as it was for you,” he admits.
And, somehow, I believe his words.