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“We weren’t…” I don’t know what to say. Don’t know anything anymore, except I want him to kiss me more, to touch me, and screw everything else.
He starts up a staircase, hefting me easily in his arms. This boy sure is strong. His steps falter a little toward the top, though, and I gasp in alarm.
“Don’t worry.” He smiles. “I’ve got you.”
Yet he limps slightly as he carries me down a long mezzanine, and I remember it’s not the first time. Before I can follow this train of thought, though, or ask about it, he pushes another door open and enters a bedroom.
Has to be a bedroom. It has a bed at its center, but apart from that it’s unlike any room I have ever entered. Back into fairytale territory.
A huge, extra-large, king-sized bed, done in pale gray with white and black cushions is set at its center. A deep red couch and two armchairs with a low, dark coffee table stand by the tall French doors that open onto a balcony facing the sea. Fine white curtains flutter. The long wooden beams of ceiling are painted white. An actual fucking chandelier hangs over us, tiny crystals glittering in the last rays of the sun.
Jesus.
“Should we even be here?” I mutter, my voice barely audible.
“Yeah, we should.” His mouth quirks in a wicked grin. “This is where I should be, right here, with you.”
“That’s not—” That full mouth descends on mine in a crushing kiss, and I moan, stretching out on the soft mattress.
This is wrong. Probably illegal. I bet the owners don’t know he’s been using their bedroom, their bed for God’s sake, to have sex. I bet he was supposed to stay in the garden shed or something, but instead he broke into the house.
Like I did, and the thrill of it, the connection, spreads through me like a gale.
He lowers me on the bed and immediately shifts and covers my body with his, taking my breath away. The room fades. He’s looking down at me, the blues in his eyes glittering, his hands on either side of me, bracketing me in. He does a sort of half push-up, keeping his weight off me.
I want him on me, covering every part of me. Nailing me down. Never felt this way before. Never needed so badly to be filled and engulfed and overpowered. Feels good to give in, to let him in. Feels right.
&n
bsp; Reaching up, I grab his shoulders and pull him to me. Need to feel his weight, his solid length, his hard cock between my legs. The dreams that plagued me all night were pale previews of this moment. Our kissing and groping by the pool yesterday was just a warm up. This. This feels like the real thing—the way he finally lowers himself, his hard-on grinding against my stomach, and his mouth eats me up, his tongue licking against the roof and clashing with mine.
His weight feels amazing, the whole package of hard muscle and contained strength pressing down on me. His hips rock, and we both moan when his cock rubs between my legs, over my worn shorts and wet panties. God, I’m so wet I can hardly believe it.
Breaking the kiss, shifting onto his side, he trails his fingertips over my throbbing mouth and down my neck. He tugs at the straps of my blouse and bra, pulling them down my arm, baring the mounds of my breasts, now barely contained in the soft cotton. His eyes follow the path of his hand, and then so does his mouth—soft lips, rough stubble, moving over my breasts. He snags the cotton in his teeth and snaps it down, and my pebbled nipple peeks out.
He gives it a long lick and then cool air rushes over it, dragging a groan from my throat. Pleasure zaps down my every nerve, and heat pools in my belly, gathering into a ball of need. He turns his attention to my other breast, licking and lightly biting my nipple until I’m writhing underneath him, my insides clenching so hard I think I might come just from that.
“I need to be inside you.” His voice is a low growl, and it rolls over me like a rough caress.
“Please,” I whisper, barely able to recognize my own voice, distorted with desire. “Please, Storm.”
“I’ve fantasized about this,” he says, reaching below the pillow and pulling out a string of condoms. He grins at me. “Hoped you’d let me.”
“You jerked off?” Oh God. I snap my mouth shut. What’s come over me?
His smile slips a little. “Yeah. Thinking of you. What—?”
“I’d love to see it.” More heat suffuses my face. Okay, time to shut up now, Ray. He’ll think you’re a pervert.
I’m normally not that bold. It’s not like I’ve had lots of sex or any kink in my life, as in, ever. Just being with him takes away my fear.
Or maybe the lust is so great fear doesn’t stand a chance.
His grin returns full-force. “Keep saying things like that, and I can’t guarantee I won’t come all over the sheets right now.”
And it shouldn’t make me even hotter—the thought he can lose control from my words, from the image of me watching him jerk off.
I’m warm all over, too warm.
