Page 109 of Fall (VIP 3)

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Before, I’d have said jerking off, or seeing a woman masturbate, was just another sex act. Contemplating doing it with Stella, I realize it’s not. It takes trust to really open yourself up, lay yourself bare. Suddenly, I feel exactly like the teen I’m pretending to be, because I know fuck-all about true intimacy.

The back of my neck draws tight. “We don’t have to,” I whisper, “if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m nervous.” She gives me a wobbly smile that makes me want to kiss her. “I’ve never done this before. But I want to with you.”

So much braver that I am. Before I can confess that, she drags her panties down her hips. I stare for too long, my mouth likely hanging open like a panting dog. But then I snap out of it and fumble with my boxer briefs. I’m so hard that my dick snags on the fabric and slaps into my stomach when I free it.

Stella giggles.

That sound. It bubbles over my skin, trips my heart. I love that sound. I’m smiling back, chuckling low in my chest until I catch sight of her. Panties around her knees, shirt bunched up at her collar, and every glorious, lush inch in between on display. For me.

I want to know if her little patch of hair is red-gold too. I’m desperate to find out. Desperate to know all her colors, her flavors, the scent and texture of her skin. I almost ask—beg—to turn on the light, but my voice gets lost, my brain scrambling, when she parts her thighs and slides her hand between them.

“I like it soft at first.” The tips of her fingers glide along the swollen bud of her sex as her other hand trails over her nipple. “A barely there tease that makes me want more.”

She shifts her hips, chasing her own finger, and I swear to all that’s holy, I whimper.

“Usually,” she murmurs, “I do this until I feel slick. But I’m so wet now—”

“Jesus,” I exhale in a rush. “I can hear it. I hear your fingers sliding over that wet pussy.”

Stella’s breath hitches. Her gaze collides with mine, all heat and dazed lust. “You’re supposed to be doing this with me.”

Frankly, I’m afraid if I touch my dick now it will explode, but I did promise. My hand freaking shakes as I lift it to my mouth. Hell, I love the way her eyes go wide when I give my palm a slow lick before I take myself in hand. I’m hot to the touch and so hard my dick is sore. I give myself a squeeze to ease the pressure before I rasp, “I start slow and firm, like I’m pushing into a woman.”

Stella nods, watching with an avid interest that lights me up. Her thighs part just a fraction, as if she isn’t really aware of doing it, and I almost roll over and sink into her. It would be so easy, so good. But I don’t. Because she wants this experience, and as worked up as I am, I want it too.

“What do you think about?” she asks in the dark. “When you do it?”

“You.” I’m stroking faster now, getting into a rhythm. “Since that first night, it’s only been you.”

She moans, her head lolling on the pillow. She’s working herself faster too, moving her fingers in harsh, sloppy circles, abusing her little kitty. The urge to kiss it all better has me leaning closer. Our breaths mingle as we pant. I’m jacking my dick hard now, the tension in me building.

“Tell me,” she says. “Tell me what you imagine.”

For a second, I blank out. I’m going to disappoint her. She’ll have expectations. But her eyes are full of desire and trust. She looks at me like I’m the best thing she’s ever seen. Me, not the shell or the name. It flays me open and raw. It heightens my awareness of everything, the rumpled sheets around my legs, the sweat trickling down my back, the friction of my hand along my dick and the sound it makes. My breath saws in and out, drying my mouth.

I lick my lips. “Truth?”

Her answer is a husk of sound. “Always.”

“I think of watching myself slide into you. Imagine sinking into your heat.” My voice goes rougher, my balls drawing up tight and sweet. “That first push when I take you, knowing that you’re letting me. That’s is. I think of having you. Finally, fucking having you. That’s the moment I dream about.”

She moans, her lips parting weakly.

“Oh, fuck, Stells, please come. Come for me, honey.”

She does. And she’s so damn beautiful, I can’t speak. Her lip is caught between her teeth, her thighs clenched around her hand, a silent scream pinching her features. She arches her back, thrusting her tits high, those gorgeous tits. I can’t help myself. I swoop down and capture a nipple with my mouth, sucking hard.


Tags: Kristen Callihan VIP Romance