Page 92 of Blush Crush

My pulse is racing, heart beating so wildly I think it might break through my chest.

A flicker of relief hits me when the truck slows to a stop in front of his house.

Cole manages to put the truck in park and cut the engine while keeping his hand still tucked between my thighs.

He turns his head to look at me and the heat behind his stare makes me want to squirm. “Ready to go inside?”

I’m not moving first. I physically cannot.

Looking down at his hand, I decide for once in my life I want to be bold. To be some version of myself I’ve only ever dreamed of being.

My thighs slowly open for him and I hear him suck in a quiet gasp, like maybe he’s as surprised as I am.

I’m letting my body do the talking. And my body wants him to stop being so careful with me. Right now, I want reckless.

“I knew I was right about you,” he says under his breath, and I forget how to breathe. He shakes his head slowly, making a tsk-tsk-tsk sound. “You let everyone believe you’re such a good girl, but I knew somewhere deep down there was a needy little slut who’s been wanting to come out and play.”

I shouldn’t like that word. It’s supposed to be derogatory. It’s supposed to be an insult. But I’m preening under the use of it, growing slick, the ache now throbbing. I’m so aroused it’s almost painful.

“So play with me, Cole,” I say through a sigh, out of breath and out of my mind.

He squeezes my thigh. “Jesus Christ, doll. You can’t say shit like that to me and expect me to be a decent man.”

And then he’s pulling me toward him. I’m not the smallest girl, but I don’t get the chance to overthink it because he handles me like it’s effortless—guiding me from the passenger seat to straddling his lap like I’m nothing but a ragdoll in his hands.

The moment our bodies meet, the hard bulge of his cock rubs over my pussy and I yelp right before Cole’s lips capturemine. His tongue invades my mouth, tangling and swirling in a devouring kiss. He’s possessively holding my face, palms on my cheeks, thumbs resting on my cheekbones, fingers gripping my jaw while my hands rest on the solid plane of his chest.

Of their own accord, my hips start rocking, seeking more pressure from his hard length. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it feels good. It feels so good I can’t think.

He tears his lips away, our eyes meeting through the thick fog floating between us.

Somehow he has the strength to lift his hips, thrusting against me.

“Keep moving, baby,” he rasps. “We’re doing this together.”

I’m not even sure what this is. Dry humping I guess? Regardless, I continue moving my hips, where he meets me thrust for thrust, as his mouth nips and sucks all over my neck.

It’s like an overwhelming cacophony of sensations, each one building over the other, until I’m on the precipice of a peak.

Cole must feel it too because he’s grunting and moaning into my ear.

Moaning.

I never gave much thought to the sounds a man might make during sex, and even though we’re not having sex, there’s something incredibly satisfying knowing I’m the reason behind those sounds. That he feels something and it’s not just me about to fall over the edge alone.

His hands grab hold of my hips, helping me to move faster. It’s frantic and hurried and frenzied.

Through it all, he whispers praise after praise.

You’re doing so good, baby.

Just like that, keep going.

You look so sexy rubbing your pussy over my cock.

Dirty, filthy praise I can’t get enough of.

My mouth drops to his, and as my tongue strokes and licks against his, delicious trembles radiate through me before utter bliss takes over. My vision momentarily goes black, every nerve in my body coming undone.