“Okay, I get it. You’ve got some moves in you.” She pants, trying to regain some control, which isn’t going to happen.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
I continue to pump into Stone, her pussy clenching ever so often. I’m so close to cumming that I don’t even know what to do with myself, much less follow through with my threat. Her soft moans, along with our sweaty bodies gliding against each other, are all the stimulation I can handle. Seeing as I’m on the brink of losing it completely, my thumb finds her hidden nub, strumming it with all the fierceness and resolve I can muster. Her cries become louder as her core clenches around my cock like strangling ivy, blanking my mind completely, leaving sensation as the only ruling dominant.
“Just like that, Finn. Keep fucking me just like that. I’m so close,” she whines, her own nails sinking deep into my shoulders.
This girl is going to be the death of me.
Who would have known that Stone, seconds away from unraveling, could be the sexiest thing ever and the driving force pushing me over the edge? Unable to keep my shit together, I kiss her to prevent her from saying anything else.
Madly. Possessively. Savagely.
She returns my kiss with the same fiery passion, and with our bodies fully aligned in every way that counts, she cums. I’m right there with her, eating up her screams with my hungry lips, as I let go and have the mother-of-all orgasms enticed by her tight little pussy.
Once we’re spent, I fall down to the ground, taking her body with me. The satisfied purr she makes has my fucking cock hard in seconds and ready for round two. I’m still trying to catch my breath while my dick is looking at his watch for me to get a move on.
“You’re better than you look,” Stone rasps, also trying to steady her erratic breathing.
“You thought I didn’t know how to fuck?”
“Oh, I was positive you knew how. I just wasn’t sure if you were any good at it.”
I slap her ass, and she lets out another one of those cute little laughs.
“You really are a brat. So, does that mean I got your stamp of approval?” I taunt back, running my fingers up and down her bare back.
“Sorry, quarterback. I’m not here to stroke your ego. But I’ve had worse.”
“Geez, thanks.”
I roll my eyes since she can’t even give me this, but when I hear another light chuckle followed by butterfly kisses on my chest, my insides go all soft and gooey.
The fuck is that all about?
As I begin to think that I may be turning into a pussy, Stone crawls up my body like the little eager monkey she is and delivers one hell of a kiss. I’m still reeling when she gets off me and begins to put her clothes back on.
“Hey? Are you cold or something?” I ask in concern, squeezing her shoulder.
“No, pretty boy. Just need to get home,” she answers without even looking at me as she laces up her chucks.
“Already?” I ask, internally torn at this being over already, since my cock had his heart set on her riding him again tonight.
“Some of us have to work in the morning. But this was fun,” she replies with nonchalance, as if I just spent the night playing Monopoly with her, rather than being balls deep inside her.
When she slaps my knee for me to get a move on, it’s the bucket of ice water I need to get us the hell out of here.
Now I know why the girl’s name is Stone. She’s hard as a rock and just as unfeeling.
Isn’t that a kick in the junk?
Chapter 11
Finn
“What’s your problem? You look like someone keyed your beloved Porsche or something,” Easton jokes as he takes the seat next to mine.
“It’s nothing.” I slump back, pressing my lips in a slight grimace.
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” He eyes me suspiciously. “Did you get another letter?” he whispers in my ear.
“No,” I grunt, pulling back away from him and snapping my pencil in half, with just the mere mention of another letter from The Society showing up on my doorstep.
It’s because of this stupid society and their threatening letters that my head is all screwed up in the first place. Sure, I was already in a pretty fucked-up situation before they were added to the equation, but they sure as shit raised the stakes with my fragile sanity.
“Hey, chill, Finn. Remember, whoever sent it is probably watching you. Watching all of us,” Easton warns, discreetly scanning the classroom to see if anyone caught my little meltdown. “Don’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they’re getting to you. Remember what Lincoln said—act cool until he and Colt can figure out who the hell is behind this.”
“I am acting cool, asshole,” I bark back, infuriated with him for talking to me like I’m the weakest link in our foursome.
But who am I kidding? I probably am, and that’s why The Society chose my stupid ass to do their bidding first.
“You’re cool, huh? Oh, I totally see that. You’re a regular fucking iceberg, dude,” he mocks, nudging my shoulder with his, trying to lighten my dark mood.
I huff out and grab another pencil from my bag, pretending to be taking notes. Yes, pretend, because my head isn’t in the right frame of mind to actually care what my philosophy professor is talking about, much less take notes. But if it will get Easton off my back, then I’m willing to at least try and act like the dutiful scholar. However, before I even have a chance to put pencil to paper, he grabs it from me and starts tapping his knee with it repeatedly.
“Spill, Finn. I can see from here that mind of yours ready to burst. Whatever it is, we can hash it out.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Really? You’re going to make me guess? Okay, I’m game,” he replies, now tapping the eraser end of my pencil on his pouty lips in deep thought.
Yeah, he can keep it now. No way do I want it back. Who knows where his mouth has been? And no, I’m not being a dickhead. Easton isn’t known for being picky with his conquests, and since I didn’t lay eyes on him all weekend, who knows where he’s been holed up. Or, more importantly, with who.
I rummage through my book bag again to see if I’ve got anything else I can write with, when Easton starts throwing out possible scenarios of why I’m all riled up, only resulting in aggravating me further.
“Your dad give you shit this morning?”
“No.”
“Your mom?”
I slightly turn my head his way, slanting my eyes at him at the absurd statement.
“Yeah, that woman is a peach. I don’t see her busting your chops so early on a Monday morning. So, it has to be your coach. He’s the one on your case, right?”
“No, asshole. He’s fine. Dad’s fine. Mom’s fine. Everything is just fucking fine!” I whisper-yell, giving up completely on my endeavor in finding a pen or a pencil.
Fuck it. I’ll just try to memorize whatever Professor Donavan is excitedly talking about on the podium below. That is if my insistent best friend ever shuts his pie hole, which I doubt very much.