Chapter 7 #3
She wriggles but gets nowhere. “Fuck. Fine.” She threads her fingers through my hair. It’s disarmingly tender, and I like it more than I want to admit.
Her eyes soften and so does her voice, “I need you to fill me, Tristan. I’m on the edge. Please, just fuck me.”
“That’s my sweet girl.” I push all the way in, stretching her, groaning at the feel of her tight, wet heat surrounding me. “Just remember that you begged for it.” I adjust her legs so her heels rest on my back. This is as close to missionary as I’m willing to get. “You might want to hold on.”
I shift my hips back, pulling out to the ridge and slamming back in.
“Oh, God.” Bea grabs my wrists.
The next time she’s ready for the hard thrust and doesn’t move up the bed. I increase my pace, fucking her into the mattress, wringing moans and cries from her lips. Her body convulses with the first orgasm, her pussy squeezing me like a fist.
I don’t give her time to recover. I fold back and rise to my knees, transferring her ankles to one shoulder. Clamping an arm around her shins, I lift and lower her, rocking her on my cock. I slip a thumb between her folds to rub her clit.
She moans and cries out, head whipping back and forth.
“It’s too much. Oh, God. Oh my fuuuuu—” She fists the sheets as another orgasm rolls through her.
Her legs slide down my arm. I pull out and flip her onto her stomach, straddle her thighs, push back in from behind, and start pounding away again.
“Please don’t stop,” she whimpers.
I smack her ass and she yelps, then moans, her pussy clenching again. Every thrust makes wet shucking sounds, and her inner thighs are coated with her juices.
I stretch out over her, my chest against her back, and grab her ponytail with one hand, wrapping the other around her throat. I bite the edge of her jaw. “Listen to how wet your pussy is for me. You pretend to be so sweet, but you’re a dirty girl, aren’t you? And I’m going to make you filthy.”
I ease my hand under her cheek and push in deep. Then I stop moving altogether. I slide three fingers into her mouth. I don’t even have to say anything; she starts sucking and rolls her hips. Like she can’t get enough. Like this is exactly what she wants.
Yeah. I’m definitely fucked.
I kiss her cheek and whisper, “I’m just getting started, little Bea.”
That gets another low moan.
“Hands,” I demand as I fold back on my knees. “Give me yours.”
They’re currently fisting the sheets beside her head. When she doesn’t automatically comply, I grab her wrists and move her hands to her ass. “Spread for me.”
She hesitates. Her trepidation is obvious in her thick swallow.
I brace my hands on either side of her head and lean in so she can see my eyes. “Am I making you feel good?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I stroke her cheek, and she chases the affection. “I won’t hurt you, Bea. If you don’t like it, tell me to stop, and I will, okay?”
“Okay.”
I kiss the corner of her mouth, and she reaches up and wraps her hand around the back of my neck.
I indulge the kiss for a few strokes of tongue, rolling my hips to the same rhythm.
It’s too intimate, though, and I need to remember that’s not what this is about.
I want to push her to the very brink of her limits, ride her hard, and tomorrow, when she’s sore and moving is a monumental task, she’ll think about the things I’ve done.
Her shame will make sure she never wants me again, and my guilt will do the same for me.
It’s seeping in already. But it doesn’t make me want to stop. Not yet.
“Change of plans.” I press a knee between her closed thighs, and she parts them for me. Once her legs are bracketing mine, I fold back and slap her ass. “On all fours.”
She pushes up on shaking arms. I grab her hips and pound into her, my pace as relentless as it is brutal.
Bea drops to her elbows and rests her cheek against the mattress, her other hand coming between her legs to stroke her clit.
But fuck if I’ll let her come again, yet.
I stop thrusting and drop my hands to my sides.
She whines her displeasure. “Don’t stop. Why did you stop?”
“I’m doing all the work.” I smack her ass. The right cheek is pink now. “It’s your turn to fuck me.”
She mutters something I don’t catch.
“What was that?”
“I can’t help out much when I’m a pretzel.
” She starts rocking though, slowly at first, but she finds a rhythm and picks up speed, spearing herself on my cock.
Her arms shake, and she moans every time her ass hits my pelvis.
Juices run down the inside of her thighs and sweat breaks out across her shoulders and the back of her neck.
She’s close, but she can’t tip over the edge.
I grip her hip and drag my thumb along the inside of her thigh, gathering wetness.
I stay deep, only pulling out a few inches before I push back in and drag my thumb along the divide. She tenses when I press against her ass.
“Relax.” I rub my thumb in slow circles. “Anyone ever get in here?”
She shakes her head.
“Good. It’s mine then.”
“What?” Her head whips around.
“Calm down. I’m not fucking your ass, Bea.
Not with my cock, anyway.” But I would. If this were more than a one-time thing, I would relish being the one who gets to have her.
I rock my hips so the head rubs exactly the right spot.
I press against her opening and my thumb slips inside, up to the first knuckle.
She sucks in a gasping breath.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” she whimper-moans.
I knead her hip, rocking to keep her focused on how good it all feels. I push in further until I reach the second knuckle.
That earns me a high-pitched, “Oh, God.”
With one hand on her hip and my thumb anchored in her ass, I start fucking her again. She moans and whimpers, chanting nonsense as she comes and comes again. I yank my thumb out and grab her ponytail, pulling her up, her back to my chest.
I wrap the hand that was on her hip around her throat, holding her against me as I ram into her.
My teeth sink into her shoulder, and I lick my way up the side of her neck.
Biting the edge of her jaw, I slide my free hand down her stomach and cup her pussy as I drive into her.
“Every time you think about the things I’ve done to you, and you’ll think about them often—” Probably with regret .
“—you’re going to wish I’d taken your ass, too.
And it’s going to drive you fucking mad that I didn’t, because you’re too inexperienced to handle me. ”
That’s how I’ll feel about it, anyway. And I’m not above getting inside her head like she’s gotten in mine. No one has shaken me the way she does, her little barbs a constant prick under my skin.
She opens her mouth to spew some shit, but I shove three fingers into it and rub circles on her swollen clit.
Her teeth clamp down, and she shudders violently.
I’ve lost count of the number of times she’s come.
I’ve never had sex with someone who can come as often and hard as she does.
She must have been up in her head the other night.
She’d been going at it for at least half an hour before she yeeted her vibrator at me and fucked herself out of an orgasm.
She sags against me, clearly spent. But I’m not done yet.
Then she tenses as the condo door opens and closes.
“Sweet. Breakfast!” Flip exclaims.
Panic makes my throat tight, and anger flames down my spine. He’s supposed to be gone for hours. I was supposed to be able to take my time.
“Oh my God,” Bea whispers around my fingers, which are still in her mouth.
“Shh...” I shut out everything but Bea, unwilling to let the guilt over what I’ve done—what I’m doing—sink its claws in yet. That’ll hit later. But I’m still inside her. And I still haven’t had enough.
I pull out and flip her onto her back, cover her mouth with my palm, and push my way back inside. Her eyes go wide, and she moans. I pinch a nipple, gently, then stretch out over her.
She asks something from behind my hand, but it’s a garbled whisper. I remove it and give her my ear. “What are you doing?”
“I haven’t come yet. We don’t finish until I finish.” Normally I’d avoid missionary because it speaks of comfort and closeness, both things I avoid in sex partners, but I need to be able to keep a hand over her mouth. And if I only get her once, I want to see her face when I come.
I run a hand down her side, skimming her curves until I reach her knee. I pull her leg up, hooking the back of her knee in the crook of my arm. I stay deep, rolling my hips, shushing her when she whimpers.
I stroke her cheek and drop my lips to her ear. “I’m close, Bea. So fucking close. Be my good girl and stay quiet. You don’t want anyone to know you let me fuck you raw, do you?”
She turns her face into my throat, teeth sinking into the skin above my collarbone. Her pussy clenches.
I pull back and take her face in my hands, giving in to the need to soak up some of her goodness.
“Filthy, sweet girl.” I claim her mouth and swallow her soft moan as the orgasm slams through me.
My teeth hit her lip, and I taste copper, and then my vision goes white.
Her nails dig into my shoulders so hard she might break the skin.
I collapse on top of her, needing the feel of her around me.
A knock on my door follows. “Hey, Tris, there’s breakfast out here, if you’re interested.”
My gut tightens and churns. I clear my throat before I call out, “Cool. I’ll be out in a few.”
I don’t want to move, to face what I’ve done, to lie to my best friend. But I need to run interference. I ease out of her, disappointed that it’s over already. I’m far from sated. All I want is more.
“What do I do?” Beat whispers, her panic obvious.
I need to stay in control here. Flip can’t know about this, and Beat can’t see the guilt already setting in. “Stay here. I’ll get food and make up some excuse to eat in here.”
“You smell like condom and pussy,” she whispers.
“That’s not new. He’ll think I brought someone home.” I don’t like the pit in my stomach, or the look that crosses her face. But I’ve just fucked my best friend’s little sister, so fucker’s remorse and a heaping truckload of guilt seems pretty damn likely. “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”
Against my better judgment, I press my lips softly to hers before I roll off the bed and pull on a pair of boxer briefs.
Beat clambers off the mattress and grabs my arm.
Her other hand covers her mouth, and her eyes are wide.
She’s also naked. She’s a sight to behold, all softness and curves.
I keep my eyes above her neck, hoping to avoid another hard-on. I give her a questioning look.
“Your back,” she whispers.
“What about it?”
She points to the mirror. Besides the scratches that run shoulder to ass, there are also several bloody crescent-shaped marks from her nails.
I shake off her hold, cross the room, and grab a towel from the hamper.
Swiping it over my shoulders, I clear away the blood.
I toss the towel in the hamper and head for the door.
A wave of self-loathing hits me, not because I regret what I’ve done, but because I don’t.
And now I have to face my best friend. I steel myself, unlock the door, and open it a crack.
Flip is standing at the counter, shoving food into his face like it’s going to disappear. I leave my room, stomach tightening.
“Hey, man, looks like Rix was busy this morning. Where’s she at?” He turns to face me, and his eyes go wide. “Oh shit. Found yourself a wild one last night, eh?”
“Sure did.” More like this morning, but that’s semantics.
I pause to steady myself, as the wave of guilt is crushing and deserved.
Flip has been my best friend since elementary school.
We’ve been through thick and thin together, and I just had dirty sex with his sister.
She’s still in my bed. The smell of her is all over my sheets and my body.
I’m a selfish asshole of the first order.
I avoid eye contact and head for the fridge, grabbing the orange juice.
I shake it, twist the cap off, and chug straight from the container.
When I’m finished, I swipe my hand across my mouth and lie again.
“I’m not sure where she is. Maybe the gym?
” But Beat is naked, in my bedroom. “I thought your promo thing would take longer.”
“I gotta meet Hemi again in”—he checks his phone—“shit. Less than an hour. I’m grabbing an extra suit and something casual, then I’m out. You around later? Dallas, Ashish, Roman, and Hollis are meeting at the gym, and after we’ll grab a bite.”
“Yeah. I should be good for that. Send me a text when you’re done with your promo stuff.
” It’s bad that I’m already considering the next three positions I’d like to fuck Beat in while I’m making workout plans for later with my best friend.
Who I’m lying to. But I’ve already made the mistake.
The guilt won’t suck any less if I have her more than once.
“Cool. Your friend still here?” He tips his head toward my room.
I make a noise.
He claps me on the shoulder. “Have fun. I’ll see you later.”
He grabs another muffin and disappears into his bedroom.
I load up a plate with fresh fruit, muffins, and bacon, then grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and the maple syrup, because Beat likes her bacon to swim in a pool of it.
Before I return to the bedroom, I stop in the bathroom and wet a washcloth.
I want to clean Beat up before I get her dirty again. If she’ll let me.
I half expect her to be standing in the same place I left her, wearing a worried expression. But she’s not. At all. Apparently, she found her vibrator, because she’s lying on my bed, legs spread wide, fucking herself with it. Her other hand is balled into a fist, which she’s biting.
I close the door and lock it. Her eyes fly open, and she freezes.
“What are you doing?”
She stops biting her hand long enough to flail toward the door.
I set the tray of food on my dresser and cross to the bed. “He’s leaving again soon.” I hold out my hand. “I didn’t say you could have that back.”
“It’s mine,” she whispers, still frozen.
I shake my head. I’m already going to hell for this. Might as well enjoy my time in the fire. “It’s mine until I decide you deserve to have it back. And I’m also far from done with you, so hand it over.”