“If you stay in my bed, sweetheart,” he said raggedly. “I’m going to fuck you.”
There was something in the way she looked at him then. Like she’d labeled all his innermost thoughts by name. Knew the parts of him he tried to hide. Her hand caressed the side of his face and he leaned into the touch greedily.
“I’m going to stay, Andrew,” she whispered, bringing their mouths a hair apart. “Because I want to. Because I need you now, in this moment, too much to fight it. Okay? And it’s the same for you. It’s the same.”
His heart skipped and twisted. Could he let this happen? If they made love, it would be so much more than physical release. It would be something he’d fantasized about since hitting puberty. Over and over and over until he was raw and gut sick and starved for her. It would be something he thought about every day for the rest of his life. Still, he couldn’t make himself break contact and stop. Couldn’t have done it to save the world. He’d lost her in real life, lost her in his dreams, but he could have her in this moment and Christ, he needed so badly.
He could no more stop himself from lunging forward and throwing Jiya down on her back than he could stop time.
“Need you?” He hooked a finger in the waistband of her panties and slowly, slowly dragged them down her gorgeous, brown legs. “No, Jiya. I fucking require you.”
He thought he heard Jiya make a small sound, but he was distracted from that possibility when she drew her nightgown off, tossing it aside. She trailed her fingertips down the inside of her slightly parted thighs and murmured, “I don’t like waiting, Andrew.”
Andrew’s balls cinched up, tight and fast, and he fell forward, catching himself before he could crush her, panting. Panting. Of course she remembered what he’d revealed on the beach. Of course she would give it to him. He couldn’t remember at which age his fantasies had taken on this particular edge, but the tone of his daydreams had changed. Quickly. He’d gone from thinking about Jiya’s tits to kneeling on the ground in front of Jiya and being ordered to suck them. Being denied pleasure until he’d sucked them long and good.
“I won’t keep you waiting,” he groaned, sliding back on the bed and shoving his face between her thighs. Yes, shoving. He rubbed his cheeks, chin and mouth all over her pussy, stopping only to worship it with a kiss. Fuck. She was warm, wet heaven. Even better than he’d dreamed and in his dreams, she’d tasted like drizzled honey. Her thighs hugged his ears now, squeezing and releasing as he continued to French kiss her wet, little gash, writhing his tongue in her hole and dragging it up to her clit. Flicking. Teasing.
“Andrew. What are you…ohhh, that’s…” Her usually faint accent was more pronounced now and it made him hot. Knowing he’d gotten to her already.
He scooped up her butt cheeks in his hands and lifted her, wanting, needing her to watch. Wanting her to see him slather her clit in wetness. Needing her to watch as he sank a couple inches of his tongue into her hot entrance, sliding it in and out. In and out, before kissing his way back to her clit and closing his groaning mouth over it. Hitting her with suction, tongue flicks, suction, and then just going for broke licking that swelling bud. Thoroughly, hungrily.
Mine mine mine mine mine.
Jiya’s head thrashed above him, her hands twisting in the sheets. “Oh, oh…don’t stop doing that. Don’t stop. Please please don’t stop. Andrew!”
“Oh fuck,” he moaned in between licks of her orgasming pussy. “Oh fuck, your pussy tastes so good, sweetheart. Tastes so good. So good.”
When her tremors started, he moved up her body like a thirsty man in the desert crawling toward an oasis. With her black hair spread out on his white sheets and her eyes dazed, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A light dew shined in the hollow of her neck and he lapped at it with his tongue as he positioned his cock between her thighs. A shudder wracked him when he slipped the head through her soaked folds and found her entrance, felt her legs tense around his hips, watched her teeth sink into her full lower lip, her eyes squeeze shut. Bracing.
Bracing?
That should have been a warning to Andrew, but he was drowning in lust, no surface in sight, and he wanted to be connected to Jiya so badly, his heart was butting up against his jugular. Wanting to absorb every tiny pulse of her body, every reaction, he gave her all his weight, locked their mouths together tight and thrust his cock home—