“We shouldn’t,” I groan, feeling her grind herself against my already hardened cock. If she was anyone else, she would be bare and laid across the fucking booth, my cock in her cunt already. But she’s not like anyone else, she is Bailey, my best friend, and the only woman I ever truly loved.
“We should. You want me. I can feel it.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to gain even an inch of strength to stop this. I’m not a good man, not a strong man. I’m weak for her, weak with need, with lust, with want. Without any hesitation, her lips collide with mine. My eyes pop open and a zing of pleasure like I’ve never felt before rips through me.
I kiss her back, and it feels like I’m drowning in her. My hands move on their own, mapping out her body, moving from her bare thighs over her curvy hips. I squeeze her flesh between my hands, and she rewards me by moaning into my mouth.
Slowly my fingers find their way into her curls, and soon I’m tugging on the strands, deepening the kiss instead of pushing her away. She grinds her center against me, and I can feel the heat and the dampness of her arousal against my dress slacks. I need to stop this, or at the very least warn her. Pulling away just enough to speak, I hold her in place by her hair, my eyes taking in her face. Swollen lips, big eyes, and pink cheeks.
She wants this, but why now? Why not years ago?
“I don’t do relationships, Bailey.” I hate how weak I sound, but more than that, I hate the words I have to speak, because even with Bailey, I can’t commit. I can’t. I hope that one day I can get over my fears, but right now I’m not ready to. Relationships are hard for me, for a number of reasons, the biggest reason being my non-existent mother, the fact that she left me without so much as a fucking care. It left a bad taste in my mouth, apparently one that’s lasted all these years. And even though I know that’s what Bailey deserves, I want her to know exactly what she’s getting into when it comes to me. I can’t give her anything more than an orgasm or three.
“I know.” She rolls her hips and I swear my eyes roll to the back of my head. “And I don’t care. I want you. Just for tonight. It’ll be my birthday present. Make me feel good, Elijah,” she begs, and I release her hair, taking her heart-shaped face into my hands.
“Are you sure?” I whisper against her lips, feeling her heated breath against my skin. She smells like strawberries, and taste like vodka, but she’s everything I could ever fucking want. Everything I’ll ever need, and the last fucking thing I deserve. She should be cherished, taken by a man that can commit to her, and unfortunately that man isn’t me.
She nods her head a little and then grabs one of my hands, bringing it between her legs. Shit. Pressing my hand between her thighs, my fingers ghost over her pussy, covered with a mere scrap of fabric. I swear my blood pressure spikes right then. Jesus. Of all the things I’ve touched in my life, nothing could be as heavenly as this. Nothing.
“Touch me, please,” she whispers, and when I peer into her eyes, I see nothing but want and primal need. I grit my teeth, because I know what I’m going to do, because no matter how much my brain is telling me no, she wants this, she wants me, and I want her too. Even if it’s only for tonight, I’ll give her the best memory of us that I can.
Consequences be damned, I had to have her. At least once.
3
Bailey
* * *
I wonder if he can feel my fingers trembling. If my inexperience is noticeable? I hope not. He’ll probably stop if he notices, and I can’t imagine him stopping, not without me losing my damn mind, not to mention how embarrassed I would be. I don’t know what I would do, probably run out of here and never show my face to him again. Swallowing down the nervousness coating my insides, I lean into his face and press my lips against his again.
I know the moment he decides to give in to me because the look in his eyes changes. It’s almost like he lifts a mask from his face and shows himself to me, the real him, the man he is in the bedroom, a part of him I’ve never had the chance to see, until now.
The blue of his eyes darkens, giving away to arousal that flickers deep inside those depths. His nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. And somehow my core clenches with even more need. He looks like a sex god who’s about to devour me whole, and I’ll be damned if I don’t let him. Gentle fingers skim the apex of my thigh and I shiver at his touch. I’m dripping with need, so much so it’s almost embarrassing how badly I want him.
“You’re drenched, Bailey,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly. It’s almost like he’s nervous, and I smile a little at the thought of him being worried about screwing this up. He has no idea. My thoughts vanish when he plucks the thin scrap of material over my pussy, and pulls it back, releasing it so it slaps against my already swollen clit. Shock at his action registers first, and then pleasure overtakes the shock. He does it again, his eyes on my face as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction to him. He looks rugged, like a man barely resisting the temptation placed before him.
The sting of my thong against my pulsing clit causes me to moan and I grip onto his shoulders needing something to hold on to in that moment. Then as if a switch flipped somewhere inside him, his fingers move. I can feel the heat of his touch, and he has yet to touch me, to caress that sweet bundle of nerves. Needing and wanting his touch sends me into a craze and I choose then to grind myself down on his hand.
I feel the growl he emits deep down in my bones. His fingers spread my folds, and his thumb finds my diamond hard clit. I’m already wet, soaked, and the sound of his fingers moving through my flesh fills my ears, that along with our heavy breathing. I’ve never felt so much pleasure, so much need. He works me over, like he knows what he’s doing, and probably because he does.
“Fuck my fingers, Sunflower,” he commands and leans forward, his lips nipping mine. He hasn’t called me Sunflower in years, not since grade school. I try and focus on the thought, but I can’t. Not when his fingers start to move and certainly not when he enters me with one thick digit.
My pussy tightens around his finger, the intrusion causing a sting of pain that disappears as soon as he starts to pump into me with shallow thrusts.
“Oh god…” I moan, uncaring to anything else but the pleasure burning through my veins. The damn world could be crumbling around us and I wouldn’t care. There is nothing that could ruin this moment between us. At my moan, he adds a second finger, stretching me, preparing me for what’s to come.
“Jesus fuck, Bailey. You’re tight as hell.” The groan that emits from his mouth makes me smile. “I can’t wait to get inside you. To feel you squeeze my cock like you’re squeezing my fingers. You want that, don’t you? My cock inside you? Pumping in and out of you?”
His dirty mouth is right at my ear, caressing the heated skin there, bringing me closer and closer to the finish line all while his magic fingers rub at a spot deep inside me that feels like heaven. I’ve touched myself before, many, many times, but nothing compares to the scorching fire blazing through my belly.
“Come for me, Sunflower, gush that pretty pink pussy all over my fingers,” he whispers, sucking at the flesh right over my throbbing pulse. The sensation is too much, his fingers, his lips, the built up want and need for him.