Page 126 of Unloved

“Rosalie,” I breathe, swallowing loudly. “You’re so beautiful.”

She blushes, letting her arms drop from around her chest, revealing small breasts tipped with small brown nipples.

My mouth waters. I want to press my lips to every inch of her, slowly taking my time down her tight body until I reach the soft brown curls between her legs. I know the feel of her, dream about it often, but I want to see her feel me, my fingers inside her, pulling pleasure from her.

“Can I touch you?”

Hearing her ask that question makes me moan, my own hand holding myself. I’m rock hard, practically straining toward her.

“Y-yes.”

She reaches for me, slow and careful. Her delicate hand wreathed in little beaded friendship bracelets wraps around my length. Her fingers are long, but still barely meet.

I’m well aware of what I bring to the table when it comes to sex—pretty face, muscular body, objectively white-boy attractive. My cock is arguably perfect; a nice length, and thick. And, most important, I know how to use it. I’m good at sex, just like I’m good at hockey.

And yet, my dick is weeping like a virgin in her hesitant hold.

“I’m—I don’t know if I’m going to do this right.”

I almost laugh at the ridiculous idea of her doing anything wrong, but bite my tongue and step a little closer to her, touching along her bare shoulder with my fingers.

“Just stroke it; you can’t do it wrong.”

I can’t remember the last time I got a hand job, butfuck, the feel of her hand on me is going to make me blow in five seconds like a fucking teenager.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, princess,” I breathe, my hand coming up to cup her cheek. She’s warm from the water and the blush of her arousal. “I wanna kiss you,” I pant. “Please, please let me kiss you.”

It’s almost a whine, and maybe I should be embarrassed, but my want for her is so great I don’t care.

She nods rapidly, eyes meeting mine—finally pulled away from her intense gaze on my dick. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and I collapse into her. I press her back into the cool tile, and the water splashes over my side as I angle into it.

She whines into my mouth, almost frantic, as I feel more than see her press her legs together.

“Rosalie,” I coo, pressing her fully back. Her fist continues to grip me while I slide my knee between her legs. “Are you aching, princess?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “Please, Matt—”

“Ride my thigh, baby. Make yourself feel good.”

She does, humping against me with abandon. I feel feral, frantic in my movements to kiss her, nipping along her neck and trying desperately not to come.

Until—

“I think about you when I touch myself,” she cries into my neck, biting down. “I—”

I come, hard, with a heavy, breathy moan. It zaps through me like lightning, no time to prepare for it or tell her. Come splashes against her bronze skin, washing away with the spray instantly.

She stops moving on my thigh immediately and I kiss her, harder now, as if I’m pressingthank youinto her mouth. I wait for her to keep going, to rock against me, growing impatient as I grab her hips.

“You don’t have to—” Ro says, shuddering as I push my thigh against her clit. “You finished. We can stop—”

I shake my head. “Not how it works. We don’t stop till you come, Ro.”

I pull her back with a light grip on her neck, looking into her eyes. They widen comically as I say, “Usually more than once, but the water’s gonna get cold.”

“But—”

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