Home > Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)(35)

Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)(35)
Author: Jay Crownover

She was close. I could hear her making keening sounds at the back of her throat. I felt it in the way she was flooding my tongue with desire. She let go of my hair with one hand and reached behind her to clasp my hand that was holding her up by one firm ass cheek. She squeezed my fingers, I saw her eyes flutter closed and her mouth fall slack in a wordless sound, and then all the parts of her I had my mouth across exploded across my tongue as I continued to eat her up. Her inner muscles spasmed around my stroking fingers and suddenly she was lax in my hands. She went limp, her arms looping loosely around my neck as I lifted my head up from between her legs to look at her. She bonelessly slithered off the edge of the couch so that she was sitting across my legs. My dick practically whimpered when the moist center of her hit my fly.

Her sky-colored eyes were heavy lidded and completely content looking. If I didn’t have my arms full of naked woman, I would’ve smugly patted myself on the back. I didn’t get a chance to bask in a job well done because she shifted from compliant and soft to forcibly aggressive before I could get my head around her mood change.

She kissed me, used her tongue to tangle with mine, sucked the leftover flavor of herself off of my lips, and shoved a little hand between us to start working on the buckle of my belt. I bent her back a little so that her shoulders were resting on the edge of the couch and groaned into her mouth when her fingertips brushed across the throbbing head of my cock.

I pulled back so she could pull the zipper down and watched as her eyes flared up in appreciation. She bent forward to kiss me again and a nagging thought barreled into the back of my skull. I caught her chin in my hand and lowered my forehead to touch hers.

“I don’t have a condom.”

It went along with my current minimalist state. Not having things meant not missing them when they were gone, including the basic urge to get laid. Only now I was going to murder someone for a tiny piece of latex because if I didn’t get inside her ready and willing body in the next second, I was pretty sure I was going to die.

Her fingers on one hand curled around the back of my neck while the other stroked the aching shaft up and down where it was straining at the opening of my jeans. It looked furious and enormous in her tiny grip. God, just watching her touch me was enough to set me off.

“We don’t really need one.”

I lifted an eyebrow at her and she cocked her head to the side. “I did have a pretty normal and active life before moving back home. I’m covered if you are.”

Shit. I hadn’t had unprotected sex since one mishap in my teens that had me pissing fire for a month. It was risky, and even though I looked like a choirboy on the outside, I had done things, been with dangerous women, that wouldn’t necessarily make me a good bet to take that risk on. Granted, all those careless choices with women had been a while ago and I never made the same mistake twice, so I was as clean as a whistle. I wanted her more than I wanted to keep breathing, but I felt compelled to ask:

“Brysen, that’s a pretty big risk to take on me. Are you sure?”

If she said no, my dick was going to fall off, but I had to respect her wishes.

She stared at me for a long, silent moment. I could practically see things turning around and around behind her burning-hot gaze. She leaned closer to me, her breasts brushing enticingly across my chest. She rubbed the end of her nose across my cheek and stopped at my ear. She put her lips right up against it and whispered:

“You make me want to take every risk there ever was worth taking, handsome.” Then she sank her teeth into the lobe and I was done for.

I hefted her up enough to get the stiff denim out of the way and pulled her back down directly on my very ready erection. She was already all open and malleable, so she slid right down to the hilt. We were joined closer, tighter than I think I had ever been with any other girl. Her head tilted back, her throat arched up, and I couldn’t resist the allure, the invitation to suck on it, to leave a mark on it.

She started to move, used her hold on my shoulders to work herself up and down while I moved up on my knees a little to get better leverage to thrust into her. I tangled my hands in her hair and kissed her closed eyes, her nose, and finally settled on her mouth. I loved kissing her. Loved the way she tasted and responded to me. I had had more sex than I probably should be comfortable admitting to, but I had never had sex like this. The routine was get in, get it on, get off, and then get gone. With her, there was so much more than that. There was the buildup, the erotic burn, the way she pulled at me, asked me to give her more without words. There was the way she said my name over and over, the way she sank her teeth into the top of my shoulder hard enough to make me grunt in pain. There was the way she told me to go harder, faster, and when I didn’t respond quick enough she somehow managed to get a hand between us to snake around my balls and give me the proper encouragement. She was being sexually daring and I fucking loved it, and it made me pretty sure I was on the edge of loving her. She was beautiful, and when she came a second time, I followed right behind her, shuddering a naked release into a very special girl I was pretty certain was going to set my already unsteady and uncertain world even further off-kilter.

I let the aftershocks of her soft body ripple along the still-buried length of my cock and shifted so that I could lay her across the threadbare couch. It took some maneuvering to keep us joined together and to get both of us to fit, but the end result was me still nestled in the cradle of her long legs and her arms draped loosely around my shoulders while she gazed up at me through passion-drunk eyes. I pushed some tangled pieces of her hair off of her face and used my thumbs to brush across the planes of her cheekbones.

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