Page 42 of Habits

My cock is pulsing in tune with her pussy clenching my length.

Gritting my teeth, I hold still, waiting for the first wave of pleasure to subside so I don’t embarrass myself.

Her mouth takes mine. We kiss, hard and deep, her tongue plunging into my mouth as she starts to move slowly.

Following suit, I start moving, too, giving her time to adjust.

Our hands roam over our slick skin, mouths never breaking the touch as we start moving faster.

I pull my dick all the way out, the tip barely touching her entrance before I’m back inside. Every time deeper.

“More,” she rasps, her glassy eyes pleading with me, and all I can do is comply.

My hands slide underneath her, gripping her hips and moving her up. The new angle gives me more leverage, making my thrusts harder, strokes deeper.

Her hands slide down my chest, nails scratching my skin. Shivers run down my body as I increase the tempo.

Her walls squeeze around me, and I can feel the pressure starting to build at my lower back.

Leaning forward, my lips brush against her neck. “I’m going to come,” I pant against her skin, each word accompanied by a strong thrust. My teeth scrape her skin, and with one final thrust, her pussy grips me hard, milking me until there is nothing left.

I thought once would be enough. To have her just one time, fuck her brains out and be done with it. But now, when I’m so deep inside her, I realize how wrong I’ve been.

How silly.

Once will never be enough.

Not with Jeanette Sanders.

She, in all her contradictive ways, has become a habit I do not want to break.

Jeanette

The door closes softly behind me, but I still cringe at the sound. Staying still, I lean my head to the side, listening carefully for any noise coming from the bedroom.

I left Andrew sleeping soundly, but you never know. Lying on his stomach, his hair tousled from my fingers, he looked so innocent and peaceful I didn’t want to wake him. Or, if I’m being completely honest, what I didn’t want is to face him. Not after what just happened.

Sighing, I run my fingers through my own hair, praying that it looks presentable. I put on my clothes as quickly and quietly as possible in the darkness of his room, but I’m sure whoever looked at me now would know what I’ve been doing. My lips still feel tender from his kisses, and I swear I can scent the smell of sex and Andrew all over me.

Once I’m sure I’m in the clear, I continue quietly down the hall. When I come to the stairs, I can hear the faint sound of the music. It’s a little past one in the morning, so I guess there should be enough people downstairs not to be too suspicious.

When I return back to the ground floor, I decide to go to the bathroom before I go in search of my brother. I’m more than ready to go home, whether he wants to or not.

Keeping my head down, I speed walk through the crowd of people. Just as I’m about to turn the corner, I hear a faint whispering.

“What do you know about Jeanette Sanders?” a quiet, although clearly male, voice asks.

I stop in my tracks, listening.

“The Ice Bitch? What do you want with her?”

There is a slight pause, in which I imagine he gives the girl he’s talking to whatever non-verbal response.

“She’s one frigid bitch who thinks she’s too good for this town. Daddy’s princess thinks she’s better than us. God, I hate her presumptuous fat ass.”

I feel my temper rising in my veins, but I bite into my lip, preventing myself from speaking. My hands clench by my sides.

The guy laughs quietly. “If I were you, I’d be careful of what I’m saying. Turns out she hooked up with Hill tonight.”

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