Good Girl Gone
Page 34

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” His eyes meet mine again. “I’ll make it good for you.” His eyes narrow. “Are you afraid?”
“Not of you,” I tell him. “I’m a little afraid of how much I want this, though.” Might as well be honest, right?
I stand up and unbutton my jeans. His eyes fall across me like a caress. “Let’s go to bed,” he says.
I shake my head. “No.”
He looks confused. “Why not?”
“I’m afraid I’ll chicken out.” My legs are shaking as I push my jeans and panties down and step out of them.
“I need to get a condom,” he says.
God, I almost forgot condoms.
He rolls into the bedroom and picks up the small cooler that Paul and Friday gave us. He unzips it. “Do you want to pick a flavor?” He grins at me.
“Just a plain one, if you don’t mind.” I don’t necessarily need for his dick to taste like bananas. I watch as he pulls one out. “Put it on.” I nod toward his lap. He looks at me skeptically, but he lifts himself up and shoves his jeans and boxers down over his hips.
I know I had him in my mouth, but he looks so much bigger right now as he rolls a condom over his length and tugs it at the base until it’s snug and tight.
“We should use the bed,” he says.
I shake my head and climb into his lap, straddling him. My lower half is naked and his manhood notches into my cleft. I freeze.
“Breathe,” he says.
I do. Slowly, through my nose.
He smiles at me. “Slow down just a little,” he whispers as he skims his palms up my sides and lifts my shirt over my head. Then he unclasps my bra from behind and it falls away. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him tight. “You’re shaking,” he says.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He grips my hips and pulls me closer to him. I straddle his lap and my feet are almost on the floor. His dick bumps my clit, the latex slick against my wetness, and I like the feeling.
He takes my nipple into his mouth and my clit begins to pulse in time with my heartbeat, and my heart is beating fast, like the clackety-clack of a runaway train.
I thread my fingers into his hair and give it a tug, forcing his lips to mine. “I want you,” I say against his kiss.
“Put me inside you then,” he murmurs against my lips.
I reach between us and take him in my hand. He hisses out a harsh breath.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. His eyes are closed, clenched tightly shut, just like they were when I walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. Like he’s barely dealing.
“Open your eyes,” I tell him as I notch him against my opening.
“I’m not sure I can.” He holds me tight, his arms wrapped around my waist.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whisper.
He chuckles and it forces him a little deeper inside me. “Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to do that.”
“Do it some more,” I breathe against his lips.
He grips my hips tightly and pulls me toward him, and he slides slowly inside. I feel like I’m being stretched tight, like he’ll never fit. But he does. He fills me up and I let him take up all the space inside me. I’m full of him and it’s not terrible. It’s actually pretty fabulous.
“You feel good inside me,” I tell him. I’m giddy with the knowledge that he’s inside me and I’m not hurting and he’s filling me up inside and my heart is overflowing with gratitude and…and I need to move. “Is it okay if I move?”
He groans. “I’m afraid I’ll come if you do,” he warns.
“Isn’t that the point?”
He laughs and his dick bobs inside me.
“Oh!”
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he says. “And sit back just a little.”
He holds my hips and adjusts my bottom, and I look down to see the spot where we’re joined. I want to see more. I take my hands off his shoulders and brace myself on his knees, with my arms behind me. “Is this okay?” I ask.
I can see the pale-colored condom disappearing inside me. Then I rock my hips and I see it come back out. “Jesus,” he moans. But he doesn’t take his eyes off the spot where we’re joined.
“What do I do?” I’ve never done this before. Not on purpose.
He lifts my bottom in his hands. “I’m still figuring this out too,” he says. He pulls me toward him, holding nothing but my ass cheeks in his tight grip.
“Oh, that feels really good,” I tell him.
He smiles. “Yes, it does.”
My lower lips are parted, swallowing him over and over as he moves me back and forth. I help by rocking my hips in time with his movements and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Holy shit,” he says. He stops moving me. “Be still for a second.”
He lifts his hand and starts to massage my clit with the pad of his thumb. I didn’t think it could get any better, but it just did. “Can I move while you do that?”
“Maybe,” he croaks. He’s intent on his task, and his thumb is quickly taking me higher and higher, and I feel like I did when he gave me oral in the bathtub, like I’m going to come apart around him.
“I want to come with you inside me,” I tell him. I know I sound stupid, but I don’t care. I’m frantically reaching for that orgasm, and it’s just barely outside of my reach.