“Are you worried about enjoying yourself?”
“Aren’t you worried about enjoying it too much?”
“And what would come of that except you?”
“I don’t know.”
I reached for her, claiming her delicate hand within my own. She staggered as I tugged her to my chest. “You asked me to make a baby with you, but, to do that…I have to take your virginity. That’s not a responsibility I take lightly, and I won’t treat it like a naughty fantasy. This should be a celebration of our friendship. I won’t taint that gift because you’re afraid of a little pleasure.”
Her voice softened. “I don’t want to complicate this.”
“Then why don’t we take it slower?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
I stared only at her trembling lips. “We’ll start simple. Let me make you come.”
She tensed. “Here? Now?”
“I’m not about to be upstaged by a pool jet.”
Clover nervously laughed. “It’s a big decision, Adrian.”
It wasn’t.
It was the simplest, most natural decision a man could make in the presence of such a beautiful woman.
I brushed my finger against her cheek. I’d done it before, but not like this. Not when I could savor the heat of her skin, the softness of her smile.
“Tonight, you’re mine,” I whispered.
Her eyes widened. “Yours?”
“Mine to touch. Mine to tease. Mine to kiss.”
“Is that all?”
My voice lowered. “And mine to make come as many times as I desire.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not about to jump into bed with you,” I said. “I won’t let this be awkward or weird or…”
A disaster for our friendship.
“How do we make it…not weird?”
“Like this…” I stared at the hollow of her throat and imagined the heat of her pulse. “I’ll pleasure you until you’re thoroughly exhausted. I want you panting, sweating, and writhing. I want you to understand just what a night with me means. Then…if you’d still prefer a lights-out, clothes-on, never-talk-about-it-again night of purely procreative sex, I’ll agree. But…if you prefer it my way…”
Clover swallowed, her hands gently pressing against my chest. I feared she’d push me away. but instead, her fingers explored my muscles—tensed and aching for more than the brush of her hands against my shirt.
“What happens if I like what you do?” she whispered.
My lips lowered to hers. “Then tonight will pale in comparison to the moment I take you to my bed.”
Her kiss tasted of honey, cream, and juicy, sweet fruit.
She tasted like a virgin. Something forbidden and trusting.
My every nerve frayed in agonizing anticipation.
Her inexperience was a monstrous reason for my cock to harden, but I couldn’t deny the unrelenting need to relieve my frustrations in her innocent heat.
And what would happen when I did?
My hands wove desperate patterns over the damned robe hiding her softness. Already too fast. Too hard. I clutched at her hips and dragged her curious body where I wanted her.
Never in my life had I felt so strongly for a woman…
And Clover wasn’t even mine yet.
Problem was—she’d never actually be mine. Friends only, save for one blessed moment of relief within each other’s arms.
And friends didn’t fuck the shit out of other friends.
Friends had to be gentle.
Tender.
Sensitive.
Everything I wasn’t in bed.
And everything she deserved.
Her lips parted for me, and I swept my tongue over hers. The fires erupted within me. The first nibble of her tender lips ignited a chaos in my soul. My thoughts burned away in a coalescence of heat and urgent need.
What was this agonizing desperation?
I dragged her tighter against my body. It wasn’t enough. That closeness. That heat. I wanted nothing more than to drown in her fires and ignore the undeniable realization that shackled me to reality.
This was wrong.
She was my friend. My companion. My dinner date, ride after games, and ice-pack deliverer when I was too sore to roll off the couch.
Clover wasn’t meant to be in my arms, in my bed, in my heart.
And yet, as my fingers tugged at the soft robe hiding her secrets, not a force in the world could’ve prevented me from sating my lust…
Except my own damned devotion to her.
My cock throbbed. My mind darkened. My hands hungrily claimed her curves.
Tonight wasn’t about my pleasure.
I swore it to myself. Repeated the words in my mind.
Tonight was hers. Only hers.
What she deserved. What she needed. Words she feared to speak, desires she’d long denied herself, and curiosities which required a steady hand and experienced lover to demonstrate.
The robe teased over her dark shoulders. The soft fabric kissed along her arms to her elbows, looping low over her back.
She wore nothing beneath.
And only our kiss protected her from my ravenous embrace.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I whispered.
“You think so?”
“I might be a friend, but I’m still a man.”
The robe dropped to the floor.
And she stood before me—naked, vulnerable, and strengthened by her own trust in me.
I guided her onto the sofa, nestled into the soft pile of blankets. She lowered herself under my command—a tender push of my hand over her chest. Her heartbeat quickened, already impossibly quick.
I envied her.
My heart had stopped.
The woman was a vision of my darkest fantasy. Every curve. Every secret. Every mouthwatering swell and valley.
Her chest rose and fell in greedy breaths. Her breasts bounced as she attempted to rise onto her elbows. I shook my head, my hand gliding over her silken form. How often had I chastised myself for even taking a second glance at the dip in her perfect cleavage?
Her tummy quivered. Tensed. Clover nibbled her bottom lip as I stared.
God help me, did I stare.
Hungered.
Hers was a willing body, so soft and innocent. I might’ve rose over her. Might’ve given her thighs a harsh slap to open for me.
Might’ve unleashed myself right then and there and plunged my cock into her innocence just to feel how she’d envelope me in her heat.
Sex was something primal to me. Raw. Vulgar. It was the slapping of skin and the mess of cum and the submission of a woman as she orgasmed over my rutting cock.
For the first time, my desires disgusted me.
Even as my cock threatened to burst.
I fought my damned instincts and instead counted my every blessing for the opportunity to graze my hand along her chest, over her waist, and to the miracle that waited lower.
I settled between her toned legs, and her parted thighs revealed a perfection so tempting even hockey became a distant memory in the promise of a new obsession.
Slickened petals and quivering folds beckoned me close…
What did she need most?
A taste? A touch?
“If you want to be truly pleasured…” I knelt before her, tormenting myself with a soft kiss to her thigh. “All you need to do is ask.”
Clover fought with herself, deliberating between covering her bared breasts and clinging to the sofa beneath her. “And you’ll deliver?”