Page 81 of Lovesick
“Princess, I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I say, still caught in her unforgiving claws, still staring into that voracious gaze that seems to pry my bones apart and lick the meat straight from the source.
The lower half of me is tingling—readying for an action-packed night that I in good conscience cannot pass up—and it’s like she’s smeared the lens of my sensibility with oily fingerprints and a hazy illusion.
“You snuck me out of my house, made me climb down a pergola, and now you’re worried about getting me introuble?”
Fuck, she makes a good point. I can’t think straight when she’s touching me. I can’t think straight when she’s looking at me. I was more than ready to have my way with her at the ABC party, so why am I hesitant now?
The truth is, I’ve been waiting for this momentever since our first night together. I honestly don’t know how I’ve lasted this long. Being with Merit is way more important than keeping my spot on the hockey team.
Lust and logic dogfight inside my belly, scrapping with bloodstained claws and carnivorous fangs. I want to brand her lower lip with teeth concavities; I want to split her open on my fat cock and bruise that pretty cunt of hers; I want to mark every inch of her flawless body so that she remembers exactly who she belongs to.
I need her.
My self-control is slipping faster than a mudslide. The pressure in my groin bloats, and even the frigid temperature is somehow not cold enough to shrink my fucking balls. This girl was designed to be my undoing. Even the strongest of mortals would kneel before a goddess like her—would commit crimes against humanity just to sip nectar from her golden chalice.
“Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath, hiking her onto my hips so that I can carry her over to the penalty box. Her legs straddle me, and her arms latch around my torso. It’s a miracle I don’t stumble with how urgent my strides are.
When I hinge the door open a little too forcefully, Merit jumps to her feet and starts unlacing her skates at the speed of light. The only sound to be heard in the entire rink is our harmonized heaving of breaths.
I’m a second or so behind her, but by the time she’s skate-free, I’ve already caught up. I step into her until her butt hits the edge of the bench, the quivering of her legs like a fucking accelerant to my insatiable appetite.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” I rumble, no better than a lone wolf sniffing out the pheromones of a potential mate.
I loom over her, barricading her with my arms, my dick hardening from the ruinous mixture of our close proximity, her bedroom eyes, and the glorious sight of her hips adjusting.
“And here I thought you were going to beg,” she quips, letting me pull my hoodie off her to reveal the slim figure hidden underneath—the erect peak of her nipples making a prominent impression against her shirt’s thin front.
She’s got a flimsy bralette on, but the lace covers absolutely nothing. The hem of her off-the-shoulder, long-sleeve top has ridden up on her stomach, taunting me with a canvas of skin that begs to be mottled in open-mouthed kisses.
“If you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask,” I say, dropping to said knees and laying her out on the bench like she’s a five-course meal primed for the taking. I settle my large paws on her waist, and then I lean in far enough to kitten-lick the patch of skin right beside her belly button.
Merit keens quietly, her toned abdomen flexing as she instinctively butterflies her legs open, shoving that perfect, cotton-clad pussy right in my face.
I feel the crown of my cock dribble pre-cum against the inside of my boxers, and that meager taste isn’t going to be enough to blunt the hunger pangs in my gut. A moan flows from my shredded vocal cords like maple sap from a sprocket.
“Do you believe that I’m really fucking into you?”
She pulls her barely there shirt off and flings it to the ground. “I believe that you’re really into fucking me.”
Jesus. She’s so unbelievably perfect that it drives me up the walls.
Her perky tits rest directly at my eye level, filling out that pathetic excuse for a bra with a generous show of cleavage, and her flat belly sinks below the protruding cradle of her hip bones. I don’t have the energy to banter with her. This animalistic need to have her in more ways than one is burning me alive. She hasn’t even touched me yet and my vision is already curling in at the edges, heat is localizing in my head, and my lungs are compressing with a particularly painful intake of air.
I can barely get the words out. “Merit, baby, I need…”
Merit nods seductively, crooning while she divests me of my shirt. Her tongue slips out to moisten her lips as her eyes make a languid sweep over my upper body.
Even though I’m half-naked, the cold doesn’t pose a threat to the fever baking me alive. My cock is now at full mast, which has become glaringly obvious with the way it stretches out the seam of my jeans.
“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Crew,” she purrs, wiggling out of her sweatpants and throwing her now-bare legs up on my shoulders so I can get a direct view of her pussy-splitting thong. It matches her black bralette, but even the color isn’t dark enough to hide the damp spot that bleeds through the material.
She’s already wet.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Do not come in your pants right now. This has to last longer than three minutes.
A groan wrests free from my chest, and the muscles in my back coil with a tension so unbearable that I don’t think a sedative would work on me right now.
The previous duvet of warmth cloaking my body has since graduated to the size and destructive capability of a wide-reaching forest fire. “Princess, my face would already be buried between your thighs by now, but…fuck…my cock needs to be lodged in that tight little cunt more than I need my next breath of air.”
