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My mind is in a haze, drugged and sluggish, my body clenched tight with desire.
Her fingers slide into my hair, and she arches her back, her legs encasing me, my hard dick rubbing on her soft pussy through those goddamned layers of clothes.
“Syd,” I grunt against her lips. “I wanna see you. Touch you.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t hide from her. Never could. I can hold on to my control all I want, polish my armor and pull my shields in tight, yet she always finds the chink. The weakness.
She’s my weakness.
I sit back, grab the hem of her blouse, and she says nothing, her mouth red and her eyes heavy-lidded. Watching me.
I yank it over her head, and she lifts her arms, letting me take it off and holy fuck… Her bra is black with a bit of lace and it cups her tits perfectly.
Damn sexy.
Sexier than I thought. Her curves are so full and soft, and I drag down the cups of her bra, needing to see. I trace the freckles on her breasts with my thumbs, circle her hard, pink nipples, and she moans, the sound shooting straight to my dick.
Her head falls back, and her hips lift. “West, God…”
“Shit, you’re pretty.” I trail a hand down her stomach and shove it into her shorts, under her panties. “I need to touch you, Syd.”
She opens her mouth, maybe to say something, but as I slip my fingers into her pussy, she moans out loud.
Shit, yeah. My pulse is roaring in my ears, thumping in my groin, but I feel good, grounded. Excited. I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Not because it will fix anything, set my world to rights, but because I want her.
And I want to pleasure her, see her lose control.
Like I lose control every time I’m near her. I want her to want me, I want…
Her fingers tangle in my hair. She tugs me to her until I’m half-lying on top of her, and kisses me again.
Fuck, this feels good. With my fingers inside her heat, stroking, her moans vibrating in my mouth, her body pressed to mine. I’ve never touched a girl like that before, never had my fingers or any other part of me inside her, but being a horny teenager I’ve watched my fair share of porn, and I have an idea of what should feel good.
Hell, I’ve watched plenty of that porn together with Nate. And it’d been hot.
The thought should hit me like a bucket of cold water—because, fuck Nate—but instead makes me harder. Shit, I wish Nate were here, watching. Touching, too.
She arches again and cries out as I stroke her deeper and angle my fingers. I feel her cry on my lips, on my tongue, feel her release as her pussy squeezes my fingers so hard I think they’re about to break.
Burying my face in her neck, I bite back a groan. My dick aches, trapped in my pants, diamond-hard and wet.
Her face is flushed. She threads her fingers through my hair, tugging. She likes to do that.
I like her doing that.
“Let me see you, too,” she says, and at first I don’t get what she means. But her other hand wanders down to the tent in my pants, and I hiss when she cups my hard-on through my jeans. “I want to see you.”
“Are you sure?”
She bites her lip. “I want to see you jack off.” Her cheeks redden more, and she’s a picture, with her pretty tits spilling out of her bra, a full flush on her chest. “Please, West.”
How the hell can I say no to that? It’s one of my fantasies, to jack off with her watching—that would lead to more. To sink inside her, make her come again, and again.
She pulls down my zipper, undoes the button, and I reach down and pull my hard dick out, gritting my teeth at the momentary relief as I wrap my hand around it and tug.
She sits back, and fuck, this is too much. “Your cock. Wow.”
“What?” I grind out.
