Page 42 of Off Limits

Before I can decide what to do, she lifts her hips and shoves her panties down. Following her lead, I hook my fingers in the waistband and step back, pulling them all the way off and dropping them on the bed next to her. We can discuss the panties-as-memento thing later. Because right now, Ellie’s on her bed and bare from the waist down, and several of my fantasies are about to come true.

Starting at her calves, I run my hands up her smooth legs, stepping between them once again. She gives me that wicked smile from last night that I’m loving as part of her repertoire. Sometimes she seems to just go along with whatever’s happening around her, but when she smiles like that, I know she’s totally on board and in charge of what she’s doing. It’s intoxicating.

Her hands go to the waist of my pants, and her cool fingers slip down inside, catching my underwear too as she pulls out and down. My cock springs free, and the look of shock on her face is priceless.

“What did you think was going to happen?” I shove everything down around my thighs so my dick doesn’t get strangled by my clothes.

She blinks and shuts her mouth, licking her lips before meeting my eyes with a half-smile on her lips. “Oh, I knew that would happen. But it’s one thing to feel it and another thing to see it in all its glory.” Those cool fingers wrap around my cock, and she gives it a firm stroke. With a grunt, I push myself into her hand. “God, I’ve wanted to see you ever since …” Her cheeks turn pink, and she closes her mouth, but she doesn’t let go of me.

I brush her dark hair out of her face, silk slipping between my fingers, and tip her chin back up so I can place a tender kiss on her mouth as she leisurely strokes me. It’s little more than a tease at this point, but she’s touching me, and that’s all that matters right this second. That and finding out what she stopped herself from saying. “Since …?”

She won’t meet my eyes, staring resolutely at my chest, but she actually answers. “Since that night I showed up at your house,” she whispers, her cheeks growing redder with her confession. “You were shirtless, and you have this happy trail …” She raises my shirt enough to reveal the hair surrounding my belly button and leading down to the dick in her hand, and I reach behind my neck and yank the shirt over my head. Might as well get it out of the way now. She seems to like me shirtless.

“Oh yeah? This what you were hoping for?” I ask, tossing my shirt aside and planting my hands on either side of her on the bed. “You wanted me to parade around naked for you? Or were you hoping I’d do something more like this?”

I press myself against her, bending over her to kiss the spot where her neck joins her shoulder, and she shivers under my lips.

“This,” she whispers. “Definitely something more like this.”

Well, well, well. It seems my fantasies weren’t entirely one-sided. And I feel like that confession—which took some guts, given how new this is between us—deserves a confession of my own.

“That was when I first really noticed you, too,” I tell her, kissing her again. “And when your brother dragged me along to stake out your date? I was jealous.”

Her eyes widen, her grip tightening convulsively on my shaft. Gently, I remove her hand from me, because I want a lot more than just her hand. “Yes,” I confirm. “So fucking jealous. I wanted to be the one taking you out to dinner, making you laugh. And when it looked like he was making you cry? I wanted to punch his face in. Because no one should make you cry.”

She cups my face in her hands, blinking rapidly like she might cry right now, and then she pulls me in for a kiss, her tongue sweeping into my mouth. I press against her, the wet heat of her pussyright fucking there, but I carefully keep myself on the outside, much as I’m dying to reach down, line myself up, and sink inside her. With her bed elevated like it is, she’s at the perfect height.

Reaching down, I gather her dress in my hands and pull it up, ending the kiss so I can pull it over her head. Before I’ve even managed to deposit it on the bed next to her, she’s arching her back, reaching behind her to undo her lacy pink bra, which she flings across the tiny room. “Condom,” she demands. “Now.”

I shove my pants down, toeing off my shoes and kicking everything away as I make my way to my backpack, pull a condom out of the small pocket, rip it open, and roll it on as I cover the few steps back to the bed from the door.

She’s reaching for me, and you couldn’t pay me enough in this moment to do anything but go to her. Hands and kisses and legs and then I’m there, the head of my cock dipping into her, my hand holding my dick steady as we both watch me play Just the Tip until she looks up, that defiance on her face as she reaches for my ass, gathering up two handfuls and pulling as hard as she can.

She’s nowhere near strong enough to budge me, but her point is clear—Quit dicking around and fuck me already.

So with her hands gripping my ass, and one of mine reaching around to get a handful of hers, I slowly push inside her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ellie

When the broad head of Simon’s beautiful cock stretches me, I throw my head back, utterly consumed by the sensation. It’s so much better than his fingers. Finally getting to see all of him was a dream come true, but this? This isn’t something I really allowed myself to think about. Not even after last night. It seemed like tempting fate too much to hope for it.

But here I am—here we are. Together in the truest, deepest sense of the word.

Deep. Ha.

I’d laugh at my own thoughts except that he’s so deep inside me that I feel him everywhere. He’s still for a moment, only his hands moving, caressing, adjusting my body for his pleasure, and I’m loving every second of it. He hitches my leg high up on his hip, nudges one of my arms so there’s room for his hand to prop himself over me on the bed, his other hand tilts my chin up so he can kiss me, all without moving his hips.

And I’m dying. If anything, this is worse than him just dipping the first half inch inside me over and over. Because more than anything, I want him tomove.

I flex around him, pushing my hips up, hoping that gets my point across.

And he is a master of reading unspoken cues. Is that a football player thing or just a Simon thing? Whichever, I have zero complaints.

His hips rock gently, slowly, and it’s both too much and not enough at the same time. I let him set the pace, though. For now. Because I want to see what happens. And because I’m thoroughly enjoying myself with his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my boob, his hips rocking just a little faster now.

Big guys like Simon so often get stereotyped as brutes, dumb jocks, the muscle. But he’s so much more than that. Gentle, sweet, kind. And also confident and sexy and just the right amount of dominating.

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