Page 72 of If You Want Me


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“It’s so good,” she breathes. “How can it feel this good?”

I know what she means. I shouldn’t be close to any kind of edge, but the way she looks is unraveling me. Her cheeks are flushed, my hands molding to her soft curves, the heat of her pussy grinding all over my cock, her fingers in my hair. Her warm breath washes over my face with every moan. She’s mine. She belongs with me.

“Does it feel good for you too?” she pants.

“Better than good, Princess.”

She smiles at the praise.

“You’re a goddamn vision.” Mine. I adjust my grip, cupping her ass, fingertips meeting hot skin, close to all that warm and wet.

Her eyes roll up as her thighs start to shake. “I need, I need…” Her rhythm falters, and I take over, moving her faster and harder over my length. Adjusting my position so my good leg takes the weight.

She grinds down and throws her head back, one hand still fisting my hair, the other aggressively gripping her breast.

“That’s it. Chase it.” There’s no coming back from this. It’s so much bigger than stepping over the line. I’m obliterating it. I slide a hand around the back of her neck and press my thumb against her chin. “Look at me. Eyes on mine.”

They roll down, hazy and unfocused as they find my face.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

Her mouth drops open, and a deep moan tumbles from her lips as she jerks and trembles. I feel the pulse of her pussy as I slide her up and down my cock.

And I’m right there with her, just holding back because I want to soak up every moment of this—commit it to memory in case this is the only time it happens. Because it should be a one-time thing. A never repeat. But she feels so damn good, so damn right. I don’t want anyone else to see her like this.

Her gaze sharpens. Her eyes search mine, and it’s as if she can sense how close I am. She grinds down on my cock, my face cupped between her palms. Her hair is damp at the temples.

Her breath breaks across my lips. But neither of us makes a move to kiss. Or take this any further.

“Do you think about me when you fuck your hand, Hollis? About what I did in your bed, and your shower?”

“All the fucking time. I can’t get you out of my head,” I admit. Months of images and filthy fantasies wash over me.

“Me neither, so I stopped trying.”

The orgasm slams through me, stealing my breath and my vision. My hips jerk, and my fingers dig into her skin.

Aurora grips my chin in her hand. “Let me see you.”

My eyes open. Her lips are a breath from mine. But still, she doesn’t claim my mouth. Her gaze roves over my face, drinking me in the way I did her. All the tension leaves my body, and I melt into the couch. Aurora sags against me, both of us breathing hard, the movie still playing in the background.

Reality filters in.

I just dry fucked my best friend’s daughter. And came in my pants. Like a teenager. I should feel like a giant bag of shit. And part of me does—the part that worries about what Roman would do if he found out. But a bigger part wants to do it again. Minus all the clothes. Take her. Claim her. Keep her.

Aurora is the first to move. She sighs and strokes my cheek as she leans back. “Thank you.”

“Au—”

She puts a finger to my lips. “Shh... Don’t say anything.” She pinches my lips together. “I’m going to leave so you can manage the mess you made.” She’s so pleased with herself as she pats my chest and carefully climbs off me.

She grabs the arm of the couch to steady herself for a second. “Is your knee okay?”

“It’s fine.” It aches, but that’s on me. “You should take the hoodie.”

Her eyes follow mine to her chest. Her left nipple is visible through her shirt, thanks to the huge wet spot. “I’ll grab one from the hall closet on my way out.”

I start to push up off the couch. “I can walk you.”

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