“And this is okay if we do this because we are both adults.”
I didn’t care what she said, as long as she moved her hands lower. Please gods, let her hand slip under the sheet. Before I ended up rutting against her thigh, which I was on the verge of doing.
“This can be my rebound. Would you mind terribly being a rebound? Normally people don’t ask, but I’ve only ever been with Jeremy.”
I had zero idea what a rebound was, but I didn’t want to hear about the other man and was done waiting. I pushed her dress up, my fingers skimming her smooth expanse of thigh. My mouth watered, and I hardened.
Sliding down the bed, I replaced my hands with my face. The tip of my tongue resumed the trail of my fingers. The scent of her arousal filled my senses. She wanted me too. I laid a kiss against her panty covered sex and Betsy’s hips jerked. I grabbed them, pinning them down so I could explore uninterrupted.
I stiffened my tongue and slowly ran it up and down her cleft. I could taste her through the fabric, and it was more delicious and tempting than anything she could conjure in the kitchen.
Her words gave way to incoherent groans. She tried to buck her hips again, but I held her fast. My tongue continued its fiery trail up and down, until I’d almost gone mad with desire. Between my mouth and her desire, the thin fabric of her panties was saturated.
I was a selfish bastard. Wanting to take my time, exploring this woman’s body, to discover what made her moan and thighs shake. I should have simply entered her and let us both ride things out and be done with this infuriating attraction.
Instead my fingers curled tighter around her hips. I pushed the fabric aside with my tongue, and latched onto the small bud that made her jerk. I sucked and licked that spot with abandon as she cried out. Betsy’s groans grew louder as I sucked harder, with more insistence.
I remembered everything. How out of control I’d been at the facility. And I’d almost lost Betsy to the crib, and then I put her in danger. I should leave. Get far away from her so she doesn’t get hurt. But the more I told myself I needed to put distance between us, the more vigorous I laved my tongue against her sweet center. Betsy’s hips bucked so hard I almost lost hold of her. I poured all of my being into her most sensitive parts.
Her cries reached higher pitches as if she were approaching the edge of some cliff. When the keening moans crested, they became muffled. She’d covered her face with a pillow to stifle the sounds.
Shudders rolled through her body as another wet rush escaped her. I alternated between lapping up the fresh desire and suckling that bud, until her hips calmed.
When I emerged from under her dress, blood pounded through my stiff cock with almost violent insistence. Something dark inside me told me to take her right then. Thrust into her mercilessly until I’d broken her.
But I took my time, enjoying the flush in Betsy’s cheeks, the way her hair splayed out on the pillow, mussed from her dragging her own fingers through it. She gripped one of those many pillows in one hand. The crocheted pillow was a small black dog with yellow eyes.
I was torn between dropping between her thighs again and seeing if I could push her over that crest again, or admiring her raw beauty in this moment.
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