Page 7 of Personal Foul
“I’m sorry.” He chuckles. “I swear, I’m fine. I couldn’t help myself.”
This time when I kiss his hand, he skims his finger along the curve of my lip before grabbing my head, kissing my mouth. His lips trace a path from my mouth to my neck, brushing over my collarbone.
“So soft,” he murmurs against me, and for a second, I wonder if he meant to speak those words out loud.
With my body flush against his and my arms wrapped around his neck, he moves me to lie on the couch. He leans over me, resuming the path his lips had made down the front of my chest.
His large hand splays over the front of my chest; his fingers brush over my nipple through my shirt. Even wearing a bra, each flick of his finger causes my nipple to bead through the material.
Tightening my legs around his waist, I grind into him, silently begging for him to quit teasing me. My body starts to quiver when his hands touch my bare skin.
He pulls back, watching my reaction as he reaches his hand out, slipping his fingers underneath my bra to rub over my nipple.
“Oh, God,” I moan, lifting my hips toward him. Desire burns low in my belly, aching to be touched where I desperately need him most.
His breath grows heavy, each thrust of my hips rocking perfectly against where his dick strains against the front of his shorts.
He moves his hand down to the waist of my denim shorts, his fingers brushing along my stomach, as he glances up at me. When our eyes meet, I give him a look I hope begs for him to touch me as he says, “I’m going to give you what you want. Don’t worry.”
Biting his lower lip, he unbuttons my shorts and guides them over my hips, down my legs. I want to ask him about his, but when his fingers are back on me, I’m unable to think straight, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Oh my God, Colson,” I exhale harshly.
He pulls my panties to the side, brushing his finger over my swollen bud before using his other finger to enter me. My legs fall open, giving him better access. I reach my hand out toward him, needing to feel him, too. Slipping my hand beneath the waistband of his shorts, he lets out a deep hiss when my fingers brush over the head of his dick before wrapping around him.
He thrusts toward me, rolling his eyes closed as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of me, lightly teasing my clit. Each move causes my chest to heave, every breath struggling in and out of my body.
It dawns on me how easy it is to get lost in him, forgetting how we only met a few hours ago, and now here I am hooking up with him on his couch.
“Hey,” he moans, leaning forward to kiss me. “Stay with me.”
He must’ve noticed my mind had drifted away from him. He pulls back long enough to lock eyes with me before kissing me again with more passion and fire than I’ve ever felt in all my life.
All thoughts and fears are pushed out of my mind because, in that moment, there’s nowhere else I’d want to be.
