“Don’t go,” I protest.
She smiles and runs her thumbs below the straps of her camisole, then suddenly pulls it down beneath her breasts. She looks toward Wren’s room and chews on her lower lip. But I can’t look at her face. All I see is tits. Beautiful, perfect round tits with perfect hard nipples. I lick my lips. I want to taste them.
“I’m going to bed,” she says. She gives me a look over her shoulder as she walks away from me. She goes into her room and leaves the door cracked.
I drag a hand through my hair. Holy shit. I adjust my junk because I’m so hard that I can barely stand it.
She comes back to her doorway and leans on the doorjamb. She’s naked. Completely stark fucking naked. “You coming?” she asks quietly.
I nod. I get up and go to her, because I feel like she’s a magnet and I’m metal and she’s pulling me toward her without even trying.
I step into the room, close the door behind me, and she sits on the edge of the bed. She hooks her fingers in the belt loops of my jeans and pulls me toward her.
“Wait,” I say.
She lays her forehead against my stomach and I can feel her breath against my dick, hot through the fabric. God, she’s turning me on.
I’ve never had casual sex, though.
“So, you don’t cuddle?” I ask. I shouldn’t even be in here, but she’s here and she’s all but kissing the button of my jeans.
“No. No cuddling.”
“What if I want to cuddle?”
“What if I want to just fuck you?” She lifts her face and stares up at me. “It doesn’t have to be more than that. Just one time.”
“Your rules,” I mutter.
“Yes. Are you in or are you out?”
“I’ve never…” I scrub a hand down my face.
“You’ve never…?” She waits for my answer as she pops the button of my jeans.
“I’ve never…had sex with someone I don’t love.” There. I said it. I’ve been with one woman. That’s it. And she is now with someone else.
“There’s a certain joy in sex with no strings,” she says quietly. She lifts the bottom edge of my T-shirt and touches her lips to my tender skin. My dick pulses. I lay my head back and groan. “Finny,” I growl.
“You can say no,” she says quietly. But her hands grab onto my ass and she pulls me toward her, her lips dancing across my skin.
“You’re making it damn hard.”
She probes my dick with her fingertips, outlining the ridge of me. “Yep,” she says on a giggle. “Remember? It’s easy with me. No repeat performances. I won’t ask you for flowers. Or for promises. I won’t even ask you to hold me after.”
“What if I want to?” It’s hard to think with her this close to me.
“Want to what?” she murmurs against me. She replaces her tiny kisses with the tip of her tongue, and she licks across my stomach. My dick jumps.
“What if I want to cuddle?” I ask.
She freezes. Her eyes meet mine. “Why?”
Because I seriously need to cuddle. I need for someone to act like they love me, even if it’s just for a minute. “I don’t know why,” I hedge. But I want it more than I want her to take my dick into her mouth. I want it more than I want to be inside her. My existence is a lonely one. And if she’s offering to take some of that away for a minute or two, I’ll take her up on it. But it can’t be just my dick slamming into her vagina. It has to be something I can feel. “I don’t know why…but I need it.”
She nods. “I’ll give you twenty minutes.”
“What?”
“After you fuck me, I’ll let you stay for twenty minutes. Take it or leave it.”
She slowly lowers my zipper. “Take it,” I whisper fiercely.
She shoves my jeans and my boxers down in one motion, and then she tears a condom wrapper open with her teeth and rolls the condom down my length. I grit my teeth and try not to come in her hand. It has been a very long time since I’ve done this. And I’ve never done this. Not like this. Not with someone I don’t love.
“Are you sure?” I ask. She was tipsy. “Are you still drunk?”
She shakes her head. “No.” She crab-walks naked across the bed, and holds her arms out to me. “Stop being such a girl,” she says. She points to my dick. “That,” she says, and then she points to her pussy, which is pink and pretty and perfect and right in front of me, “goes here.”
I nod and fall on top of her. I’m suddenly completely sober. And I’m entranced. She wraps her legs around me, taking control as she pulls me toward her. “Wait,” I say. “Slow down just a little.”
She groans and flops her arms out flat on the bed. “You’re not one of them, are you?”
“One of what?” I ask as I brush her hair back from her face.
“One that wants to rock my world. One that wants to teach me how breathtaking lovemaking can be. One of the stupid people.”
“No, I’m not one of them,” I say. I stare into her eyes as I press against her heat, sliding in her wetness. I press inside her slowly, afraid I’ll hurt her. Afraid I’ll do it wrong. Afraid I won’t please her.
Her breath hitches and she clutches my hair in her fists. “More,” she says.
She jerks my hair, chastising me without words for going too slow. I grab her wrists and press her hands to the bed, holding her in place with my own. I don’t want her to take over.