Page 44 of The Last Kind of Kiss
“Iwant to fuck,” I say, cringing at how brazen I sound.
I know I should be thinking about the consequences. I know I should have more respect for myself than to fuck the guy who broke my heart, but he’s saying all the right things, and I…I want to give him a second chance. Maybe it’s the fucking chocolate talking for all I know. As much as I want to stay away from him, I can’t. I’m skydiving without a goddamn parachute and expecting to fall into a body of water instead of on the hard concrete.
My cunt aches, my legs feel numb from exertion, and my head’s the consistency of thinly stretched cotton candy. I have no idea if my body will even last a full session, but Iwantto help Bristol feel good. I want to witness the ecstasy on his face when he comes; I want to feel the warm rush of cum as he fills my pussy to the brim; I want to hear my name jump from his tongue in the form of a moan. And I want him to hold me afterwards like he used to until we both fall asleep feelingloved.
Bristol licks his teeth, looking about as torn as I feel. “You’re…sure?”
Doubt tugs at my gut, cramping it with a nausea I’ve tasted athousand times before. My emotions are too all over the place to make a sane decision right now. My hormones, however, have no trouble taking the wheel, and an itty-bitty, irrational part of me hopes that this could be the first step in rebuilding things between us.
I sip in a timid breath, suddenly regretting being so straightforward. “I mean, we don’t have to. I don’t want to…I don’t want to pressure you or anything.”
Girl! What are you doing? Where’s the badass Lila who walks over men like they’re fashionable animal hide rugs?
Bristol—with his floppy hair and ridiculously muscular physique—hurls out a chuckle, metamorphosizing the nerves in my belly into full-fledged butterflies. “Are you serious, Lils? Do Ilooklike I don’t want to?” he asks, gesturing to the thirdmembermaking this two-person party a crowd.
I have no idea how I have anything left in me, but wetness grows between my legs, accompanied by a painful pressure that festers right behind my navel. “I just…” My voice becomes impossibly quiet, all my tenacity dying a swift death.
“Hey.” Bristol reaches out to caress my face, the pads of his fingers soft in juxtaposition to the countless callouses that litter the palms of his hands. “I’m on board with whatever you want to do, okay? I’d enjoy myself even if we sat in complete silence and stared at the ceiling. I just enjoy beingaroundyou.”
If I wasn’t so horned-up right now, I’d probably be crying. I lean into his hand, and everything feels natural. Everything feelsright.
I enjoy being around you too, believe it or not.
I don’t know why I can’t say it to his face. And no, it’s not an ego thing. It’s anI-don’t-know-what-kind-of-disaster-will-occur-if-I-utter-those-wordskind of thing. So I keep my lips closed, deadbolt my heart, and climb on top of him.
Bristol lies flat on his back, resting his hands on my hips andstaring at me with a look that would’ve stripped me bare if I still had any clothes on. His barrel chest rises quickly, his dark lashes shade the warm brown of his eyes, and his dick’s rocking a steel helmet in his pants right now. It’s distracting. Well,everythingabout him is distracting. His mouth still shines with my cum, and the insides of my thighs are in the same state.
“How badly do you want to fuck me?” I purr, running my manicured nail down his chest and through the winding valleys of his abs.
Bristol groans, bucking his hips against my pussy, which has sped through “classily wet” and completely blown into “shamelessly leaking” territory.
“You want me to beg, angel?”
I nod, doing everything in my power to keep my handsonlyabove his waistline.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this. How long I’ve dreamt of slamming my fat cock inside that perfect, tight cunt of yours again. Fuck. You haunt me, Lila. You haunt me every second of every day. Your laugh, your smile, the way your pussy squeezes around my dick when you come. Ineedto be inside you. I’ll do anything you want,” he confesses, his fingers curling into my sides.
Lust ferments inside me, muddying any and all thought, and it douses me in a fresh film of sweat. His swim trunks need to come off in the next minute or I won’t hesitate to rip them from his goddamn body. “Tell me how good of a boy you’ve been.”
He throws his head back against the pillow, throat bulging with an anxious swallow. “I’ve been such a good boy,” he whimpers. “I’ve been so patient. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me to control myself around you.”
“You’ve been doing a pretty terrible job.”
“Like I said, things have been…hard.”
Oh, I’ve noticed on more than a few occasions.
“Do you think about me when you’re jerking off?” I ask.
“For the last year, you’re the only thing I think about when my hand’s on my cock, angel. I think about how fucking subpar it is compared to that incredible mouth of yours. I think about you, on your knees, looking up at me while you take my dick down your throat.”
I start to slide the hem of his trunks down. “Yeah?”
He shivers. “Yeah. Oh—fuck.”
It doesn’t take much maneuvering to get the offending material out of the way, and when I do, his angry, ruddy cock springs out, slapping against his stomach and ricocheting slightly from its heavy weight. My mouth waters on sight. I don’t know why I imagined his dick would shrink after we stopped seeing each other, but I’mhappilyreminded just how big it still is. It’s a good thing I’m lubed up, otherwise he’d rip me apart from the inside out.
I run an exploratory finger up his length, following a dominant vein that sticks out prominently. “You like when I choke on how big you are? You like when I’m a dripping mess around your cock?”
