His musky scent is all around me as two voices cry out in my mind.
One is loyal to Jamie, telling me I need to get out of this situation before the temptation becomes too great, telling me I need to disarm these explosive desires before I give in.
The other tells me to forget about Jamie, to forget about the world, to forget about how I feel, even. It tells me all that matters is having this man’s children, taking his dick, and turning myself into his woman.
The more time that passes, the louder the second voice becomes until it’s a deafening primal roar that blots out all else. I shiver against him, and his hand tightens on my leg.
Oh, God…
He’s really squeezing onto me now.
I wonder if he knows what he’s doing? If he can feel how crazy that makes me. His grip gets even tighter and then his hand shifts up a little bit, coming closer to my sex. My panties are soaked. My clit is achy and sensitive against the material.
“Is it me,” he says in my ear, “or is this movie making no sense?”
“I couldn’t tell you a single thing about it,” I murmur.
“All I want is…”
He pushes his hand right between my thighs, driving his palm against my sex. I moan and fall back against him, twisting my neck so I can stare up into his face.
He’s gazing down at me, eyes fierce, lips pressed into a flat line. He looks like he’s ready to tear my clothes off.
And I want him to.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper.
“I know. But fucking hell, Lorena. I can feel how wet you are through your pants. I need to taste you. I need to make you come as I lick your needy virgin slit. Tell me to stop. Tell me we can’t. And I’ll stop.”
“Will you? Can you?”
My words come out as more of a whimper than anything else.
He smirks knowingly. “You’re the English major. What do you think I mean when I say you’re irresistible?”
“I guess I’m still getting used to the idea that someone as handsome and as strong as you could find me impossible to resist.”
“Well, get used to it,” he snaps. “You’ve got a perfect body and fuck, Lori, I can feel how soaked you are.”
Suddenly his hand is on my sex. I gasp and wriggle against him as pleasure fills my veins, my clit feeling like it’s being consumed with friction as he grinds his palm against it. He rubs it up and down, side to side, smearing my wetness across my pussy.
Then he shifts, slipping away from me and climbing off the couch.
He stands over me for a moment, staring down with his jaw ticking. He took off his jacket to watch the movie, and I can see the outline of his muscled arms beneath the fabric perfectly.
“I can’t stop thinking about how you’re going to taste.” He slowly lowers himself to his knees, never breaking eye contact with me, like a jungle cat keeping its quarry in its desired spot. “I need to feel that hot pussy. I need to taste how goddamn juicy you are.”
The conflicting voices disappear as he slides his hands up my legs and grabs the waistband of my pants.
Suddenly there are no doubt and conflicting emotions clashing inside of me. Or, if there were, they are buried deep beneath the feeling of his hands on me as he drags my pants and panties down my legs in one big bundle.
He pulls them over my feet and then tosses them onto the floor.
I stare down at him, into his eyes, watching for his reaction. It’s one thing for him to say how badly he wants me, but another for him to behave as though he does.
I never should’ve doubted him for a moment.
His eyes almost glaze over, like something else is taking hold of him, quietening his doubting voices the same way mine are being silenced. His eyes consume my naked pussy, his breathing getting louder, deeper.
“Fucking hell. Your slit is so wet and pink and fucking perfect. You’re glistening for me, Lori, and…”
He slips his middle finger into my hole, softly, gently, pushing my tight lips apart. I moan as sparks hiss through my lower half, my clit screaming out to be touched, a spot deep inside of me pulsing and feeling like its swelling, eager for its share of the pleasure.
“You’re so. Fucking. Wet.”
“You make me crazy. That’s why.”
“Have you ever…” He trails off, shaking his head. “No, I shouldn’t ask questions like that.”
But I can read his thoughts. It’s in the carnal rumble of his voice, in the way he stares at me. It’s like there are different versions of us, buried deep, the pieces of us which know without any doubt we’re going to be together forever. They take over, and suddenly I know what he was going to say.