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I’m still shaken by the force of his orgasm, the feel of his thick cock jerking in my hand, shooting all that cum on him, painting his chest white. So powerful. So intense.
Never seen or felt anything like it. I’m still holding his cock in my hand, and it’s softening. I move my hand up and down once more and he shivers and stifles a moan.
Sensitive now it’s done. Hot and wet and still half-hard.
“Damn,” he whispers, and I smile down at him where he’s stretched out on the bed. “That was…”
“Good?” I guess. He’s a boneless sprawl on the covers, his expression dazed.
“Damn good,” he clarifies, and grins at me.
It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful, and that grin is like the sun coming up over the clouds.
“Do you want to taste him?” I hear Cassie’s voice in my head. “Touch him everywhere?”
God help me, I do.
But I still want to be with Fred. What does that say about me? Am I turning into Cassie? Is it possible that my body wants one man and my mind another? What am I supposed to do?
I release Seth’s cock from my hand, scooting back, a tremor going through me. Crap. I kissed Seth—again—and I masturbated in front of him. And then I asked to touch him and get him off, too.
What the hell am I doing?
My vision blurs. I climb off the bed, straightening my clothes, trying to keep from looking at Seth’s long, strong form on the bed, the evidence of his pleasure all over his chest, his eyes half-lidded.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as he sits up, opening his mouth to say something.
“Are you?”
“This was a bad idea.” I retreat away from him, unable to tell what he’s thinking. His face is blank. “I shouldn’t have done this.”
He reaches for his discarded T-shirt, wipes down his chest, and my eyes are helplessly drawn back to his firm pecs, his rippling abs, the dark ink covering them.
I should turn around, walk out. Why aren’t I doing it already?
He throws the T-shirt aside and gets to his feet. Slowly. I’d have thought it for my benefit hadn’t I known of his bad knee—but jeez, from the muscles rolling in his powerful thighs to his bulging biceps as he pushes himself off the bed, all the while completely naked and unselfconscious, giving me another good look of his crotch, his half-hard cock and heavy sack…
Too hot. I’d fan myself, but by then he’s standing right in front of me, gloriously naked where I’m still fully dressed.
Dressed but bared under his dark gaze.
“You liked it,” he says, thick lashes lowered, almost brushing those broad cheekbones. “Admit it.”
The words won’t come. I should deny it. Lie about it.
I can’t.
“Think that I haven’t even put my hands on you yet. Haven’t put my mouth on your skin, on your tits, between your legs. Haven’t fucked you yet. Imagine how fucking good that would feel, how hard you’d come. If you’d let me show you how a boyfriend should treat you.”
I gasp, heat pooling between my legs. How is he doing this? I might come just from listening to him, picturing what he might do.
If I let him. If I stay.
“Manon…” He reaches for me, and I take another step back. Can’t think with him so close. Always a losing battle.
“I really should be going,” I say.
His beautiful mouth tightens. “You still want him, huh? This Fred.”
