Page 19 of The One Bed Rule

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After a few more turns, it’s clear that Inn Rules for Scrabble is the way to go. Normal words like COURT, CURTAIN, and DECK, easily mix with TITS and CUM.

The game is really close, score wise, and we’re running out of tiles. I’ve got a perfect opportunity to use almost all of my tiles. And maybe get a little more of what I want. What I’m craving.

Placing the tiles, one at a time, I play the word SHOWER. It lands on a triple word score; that might be the game and Claire knows it.

“Damn. That’s a good play,” she muses, watching me count the points and add it to my score.

Leaning in close, my lips are barely an inch from hers, and I love that she doesn’t flinch. Her eyes match mine and she pushes her lower lip through her teeth. “That could also be our next activity.”

She surprises me by kissing me quickly. Her lips hover for just a blip as she says, “Only if you make me…” as she points down to CUM.

Fuck. She’s good.

Claire stands, her tits almost eye level with me, and she hands me the bag, sliding the tiles from our game in—don’t need Jess stumbling upon our saucy playing rules.

I reach for her hand, which she takes, and we walk back to the room.

When the door closes behind us, I lock the door. I hear the water turn on in the shower—Claire must be eager—and the thought of her has my dick twitching.

She walks out and pink starts to creep on her cheeks when she looks at me. Claire stands, crossing her feet, and clasping her hands in front of her. Almost like she’s nervous.

We can’t have that.

I stand in front of her, smiling, and say, “Arms up.”

With zero hesitation, she listens to me, and I grab the hem of the sweatshirt and pull it up and over her head, before going back for my long sleeve she was wearing underneath.

Then she’s standing there, nothing covering those perfect tits. For a second, she tries to cover herself up by crossing her arms, but my hand is reaching for them.

“Don’t you dare,” I demand. I pull her arm away and then put my mouth on her. I suck and lick at her pebbled skin. Trying to pay equal attention to each breast. Claire’s hands wrap around my shoulders and she gives into me, pushing her chest out.

She moans and it goes straight to my dick, the steam coming from the bathroom and curling around us. Needing to be touching her, more of her, I take off my sweatshirt then make quick work of my pants. Claire follows suit until she’s standing in front of me in only a pair of panties: red, lacy, barely there.

Claire turns and walks towards the bathroom, her ass on display for me. The thong wraps around her hips and is showing off all of her curves. When we stand in the bathroom, I can’t help but take off my briefs.

She watches me, licking her lips as she stares down at my cock. Claire sucks in a breath as I step closer to her and murmur, “You need help with those?”

When she nods, I hook a finger at each of her hips, slowly dragging them down as I drop to my knees. I’m torturing myself with this pace but the nervous energy rolling off her is fucking worth it. I’m careful to only touch her with my fingers, down her legs, even though my mouth passed right in front of the place I couldn’t stop thinking about.

She steps out of the lacy thong and I slowly stand up, making sure to only rub up her legs with my hands. When I’m standing, she wraps her arms around my neck, and pulls me into her for a kiss. My dick hits her stomach as she kisses me like I’m the air she’s been trying to grab for days.

My hands go from her hips to her thick ass. I squeeze and grab her cheeks, round and firm, before giving one a playful slap.

“Harder,” she pleads into the kiss.

I spank her, my hand stinging a bit this time, and she whines into me. “Good girl, telling me what you want.”

The shower is a walk-in style with a small bench. It’s surprising, like most of this place. Carefully, I walk her in, her back being hit with the warm water first. We don’t break our kiss as the water hits us from two different shower heads—one of them detachable.

Immediately, the ideas are overflowing from my brain—all the things I want to do to her. All the ways I want to fuck her.

“You know the thing about good girls, right?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

I lick her lower lip, the one she chews when she’s nervous, and put my hand above her, pressing into the tiles. “Good girls get to come first.”

Seventeen