What Adults Do #2
We stayed barely an inch apart, lips brushing lightly enough to tease. But when I was ready to give in and say something else, Phillip’s mouth hungrily tasted mine and his low, guttural groan reverberated between us.
Then it was a race to undress.
Hands clawing, fabric tearing, hot mouths seeking each other like all we wanted to do was just swallow the other person whole. Even with how fast we moved, it didn’t feel quick enough.
Phillip lifted me under the rear when I climbed onto his lap, and I eagerly locked my legs around his hips as he stood up.
Our kiss veered on feral before he twisted and I was sandwiched between the larger Hunter and the mattress.
I grasped and scratched along his back, my mouth moving against his with a passion I’d sat on for weeks.
With a needy groan, Phillip expertly sunk thick fingers inside of me and cleverly pleasured my legs apart.
Back bowed, I groaned his name. “Hold on,” I pleaded, helplessly edging towards orgasm too fast for my liking.
Phillip grunted and huffed a scoff, fingers never slowing, and nibbled along my neck. With a sneaky upwards glance, he bent down and sucked my nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. “No, V. I won’t wait.”
Pumping his fingers in and out of me without mercy, Phillip worked his way down my chest to my stomach.
His tongue traced a path to the top of my sex.
Slyly, he ducked his head down and licked where his fingers worked me into a quaking mess.
I arched away from the bed, moaning. The pleasure was so intense I nearly screamed, but I managed not to.
Instead, I wove fingers through his hair and clung on, chasing his mouth with the roll and swivel of my hips.
Sadly, I didn’t last very long. Shameful really, how quickly he got me to orgasm.
It was only a minute later when I came, squeezing him between my thighs with a strength that would kill a man.
Thankfully, Phillip gripped my thighs and avoided serious injury.
Not that he wouldn’t instantly recover. Honestly, I didn’t totally fear hurting him when, no doubt, the playboy was likely to keep the memory of it as a trophy.
When the Austrian stole a look at me from between my thighs and I finally came down from the high of my orgasm, his criminally sexy smirk put heat right back into my cheeks, reminding me of what I’d just done. “Good girl,” he said, voice gruff. “Enjoy that?”
Panting, because I felt like I needed to, I threw my head back and grunted unhappily. “Don’t.”
“Don’t, what? Ask you questions?”
“Don’t ask me questions you already know the answers to,” I bemoaned, thighs still shaking.
Phillip sat up, hands on the top of my knees, and stared down at me with a look I couldn’t recognize. “Then I’ll ask you something I don’t know.”
His deep voice drew my gaze to him as the Hunter yanked his pants open and took hold of himself, forcing my gaze to where his hand grabbed.
He stroked his hard length with shameless strength, not at all embarrassed by the illicit display.
His tattooed hand worked the shaft, squeezing around the crown, and his intense cerulean eyes stayed with me the entire time.
Holy shit.
“Do you really want to do this again?” he demanded, his voice one of the deepest registers I’d ever heard it.
I shuddered, hips unintentionally moving to relieve tension. “I—”
Given an up-close and personal view of how hard he was for me was something I couldn’t adequately describe, even with all the words in the dictionary.
It was lewd, forbidden, intoxicating, captivating.
It made my entire body heat up in mortified curiosity.
But after our few nights together, I’d quickly learned that Phillip was far from modest, and he was unbelievably confident in his skills.
As he should be. He was, as far as I could tell, a god of sex.
Phillip bent forward, coming between my legs with a sinewy twist of his waist, hovering close enough I felt his intense body heat.
“Do you really want to continue this?” He questioned a little more insistently, luminous eyes on me.
“I don’t know what this thing between us is, and you said it, it’s probably a bad idea.
You’ll likely come to regret it. So, I want to make sure you’re ready for this to be something. ”
Be something?
“Do you?” I asked quietly.
His brow rose in question. “Do I…?”
“Want to do this?”
Phillip grabbed me around my jaw and kissed me with heat, tongue tracing both top and bottom lip before he nibbled my mouth. “I’m not the one we should be worried about.”
I huffed angrily and gripped the back of his head to force his eyes on mine, refusing to surrender. “You didn’t answer my question.”
The Austrian’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Fair enough. And if I said yes?”
“Still not an answer.”
He chuckled softly to himself. “Okay, okay.” Bending his head down, he kissed along my throbbing jugular.
“Yes. It seems like no matter how hard I try not to, I want you.” His azure gaze lifted and, without warning, his cock penetrated me.
Instantly, my head knocked back. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you mine.
” The low rumble of his laughter tickled my chest. “Well, with your consent, that is.”
I didn’t get a chance to answer. The Austrian’s hips moved, rocking back and forth, then he smacked into me fast enough that I had no choice but to cry out.
The sensation was too intense, and every shift of his hips was relentless and unforgiving.
I was left with only one option: to cling onto him for dear life.
And I did.
I clung so hard my nails broke through tough flesh. His injuries instantly healed, but if they hadn’t, something told me Phillip would wear my markings with pride.
With my face held between his palms, the other Hunter kissed me roughly.
Violently. Our tongues battled and our bodies went to war, release so close I could practically taste it.
Hot crash after hot crash came down on my hips, sweeping out through the rest of my body until I was pleasantly numb from top to bottom.
It was hours before either one of us stopped or really breathed. Or at least pretended to breathe, anyway. I was wholly saturated, and so was he by the time we collapsed beside one another.
My body hummed post-sex, and all I could think was how satisfied I was.
Or how I understood why women sometimes cried after sex.
It didn’t make sense to me, and I’d even laughed thinking about it before, but the intense feelings and immense sensation in my body definitely got me close to doing just that.
But like anything, post-moment clarity came swooping in afterwards, and the reality of what we’d done settled in my chest.
“I should shower,” I said slowly, sitting up with an arm covering my breasts.
Phillip was concealed in only a few places with a thin sheet, and his beautiful body glistened under the dim light like the man was a damn Adonis. “You don’t have to run off the minute we finish.”
The urge to taste the salty wetness of his skin hit me out of nowhere, but I ignored it and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Well, this isn’t more than just sex, right?” I swallowed around a lump forming in my throat, hurt by my own words. “No reason to cuddle and pretend otherwise.”
The lines in Phillip’s face deepened as I stole a blanket and wrapped it around myself, suddenly feeling modest. “Oh?” he murmured, eyes straying.
If I didn’t know better, it almost sounded like he was surprised I’d say so.
Glancing at him, I brushed back my matted red hair. “That’s what you meant earlier when you asked if I was ready for this to be something, right?”
An emotion I couldn’t identify distorted his face for a second before it was gone. Then Phillip wove his fingers together behind his head and hummed low in his throat, eyes lifting to the ceiling.
When he didn’t say anything else, I took that as my cue to leave and headed for the bathroom to shower. But his expression stayed with me the entire time I washed away any remnants we’d been together.