Page 51 of Bad Habit
“I’ll go over there while you dress.” She dropped the robe and walked along the window toward the sitting area.
I forced my arms into the robe as fast as my body would move, belting it around me, and when I turned, she was facing out the window about fifteen feet away. I slowly stepped toward her, and then softly laid my hand on her shoulder.
“The lights,” she said, looking out the window. “Las Vegas really is something.”
I nodded, standing behind her, easing myself closer while avoiding direct dick-to-Faith contact.
Without warning, she turned, reached up for my neck, and pulled me down into a kiss. Not that it took any pulling.
To keep from pressing into her, I planted my hands on the window beside her, and her lips tasted so sweet, so good. I tried to force myself to stay slow, to keep our kiss PG, but the second her little tongue lapped against mine, I gave up.
Gathering her into my arms, I claimed her lips and tongue. The lights of the city danced through the glass behind us, highlighting her hair, her skin, our robes, and I tried to keep my sanity, but I was sinking, drowning in Faith, in her lips, her body, her touch.
My hands refused to obey my better judgment, and they pulled her body tightly against mine. Every nerve inside me exploded, reveling in her body’s reaction, and my own. My hard-on rubbed against her belly through our robes, finally getting a hint of the stimulation it craved, and I grabbed her butt, drawing her even closer, desperate to grind against her soft body.
To my surprise, she squeezed my butt cheeks, and I moaned into her mouth and pressed her against the window.
Every instinct was desperate to part her legs and drive deep inside her, to pound her against this glass until we both screamed. I craved it like it was what I needed to survive. My body had turned feral, wild, but I hadn’t completely lost my mind.
I knew I couldn’t take her, not like that—hard and fast and rough. But her body kept moving against mine, sliding and grinding as we continued to devour each other’s faces—the hottest make-out session of my life.
I was going to come. “Faith,” I groaned into her mouth.
“Mac,” she sighed back into mine.
I pulled back and looked into her eyes.
She was panting, lips swollen and wet, eyes full of lust, and she kept hold of my ass and rubbed herself against my dick.
“If we don’t slow down”—I groaned, my entire body shaking—”I’m going to come.”
Her eyes widened. “Ejaculate?”
I nodded, trying to catch my breath I lowered my forehead to rest against hers.
Uncertainty flashed across her face, then she kissed me again, driving her tongue into my mouth, and I could no longer fight what my body needed—I no longer wanted to. Why had I ever tried to deny it?
Her back arched, rubbing her soft belly against my hardness, and my hips thrust against the pressure as I dry-humped Faith against the Vegas strip window, two layers of robe creating friction between us and barely tempering the heat.
My one hand behind her neck—both to protect her and keep her mouth where I wanted—I leaned my other against the window as my orgasm invaded, a full-on assault that made my hips buck violently—angrily—angry I hadn’t let my dick get where every part of me wanted it to be.
With a shout delivered into her lips, I shot my load into the fabric separating our bodies, my back spasming to wrest every last moment of pleasure. Then I slumped against the window, against Faith, as I panted, coming down from the intense high.
Slowly, rational thought returned, and I backed up a few inches and took her face in my hands. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but her eyes told a different story.
“Shit. I’m so sorry.” I cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead, becoming aware of the damp mess on my robe, hers too.
“Don’t be sorry,” she said softly. “It was just…” She drew a long breath. “It was so unexpected, that’s all. Was that… Did we have sex?”
“Depends on how you define it.”
“Fornication?”
I shook my head. “Pretty sure that technically requires actual penetration.”
“And you didn’t… Of course you didn’t.” She shook her head. “That felt good, though. Is fornication even better?”
