Page 105 of What About Us
He pushes forward, using his hand in my hair for leverage. It causes me to gag again and a tear runs down my cheek, while he holds me still. His breathing is rough and fast when he says, “I love the sound of you choking on my cock. Such a good girl, letting me use your pretty mouth.Fuck.”
I moan at his praise and almost whimper when he lets up on my hair. I hum around him, bringing the length of him back out. Saliva connects my lips to the tip of his cock. I love the way it looks, and the way he looks as he watches it drip onto my thigh.
But he doesn’t give me more than a second or two before he’s pushing back in. His thrusts becoming jerky, sloppy. I can feel him hardening further in my mouth and I know if he doesn’t stop, he’ll be coming down my throat in seconds. I want to be the one who makes him fall apart. I’m desperate for it.
“Get up, pretty girl.” He pulls me off his cock and up by my arm.
My legs tingle from kneeling for so long. So, I brace a hand on his chest and wipe my mouth with the back of the other as I stare up at him, waiting for his next move. My breathing is shallow and my pussy throbs as his eyes search mine. I lick my lips, which feel swollen and stretched out, and his eyes track the movement.
Strong hands yank me forward, until I’m flush against him. I have a split second to process how fucking delicious the hard planes of his body feel against me before he slams his lips against mine. A long groan rips from his chest, and his hands bunch in my hair. Both of my hands fist in his shirt and he kisses me so deeply, I can’t tell where my mouth ends and his begins. He tastes incredible. He feels even better.
My mind screams at me that this is Hudson—my best friend—and that this can only end badly. But nothing has ever felt so right. Seeing him, someone usually so sweet and soft with me, lose control—giving in, taking what he wants,using mefor what he wants—is one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced.
Needing to feel his skin, I grab his shirt and yank it up. He lifts his arm, helping me pull it off over his head, before his mouth is back on mine. I’ve never wanted anyone more, and even though I’ve seen him shirtless dozens of times over the years, being this close—this wrapped up in him—is a new experience altogether. He sighs when my hands find the bare skin of his chest, then I’m grasping, nails scraping over his pecs.
God,he feels so damn good.
I pinch one of his nipples, and he moans, threading his fingers back into my hair. And when my other hand finds the base of his cock, he tugs on my hair with one hand, hissing out a breath.
“You’re incredible, Finnley. Fuck, babe.” His other hand palms my ass and he squeezes as I rock my hips into him.
“Touch me, Hudson.”
He grips my panties with one hand, forcing them to the side, and slides a finger through my slick heat. My legs almost give out and I cry out hoarsely, wrapping an arm around his neck when he pushes two fingers inside me.
“Ohhh, my God. Hudson, yes,” I breathe out against his jaw and rock my hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers. He tweaks a nipple through my shirt and my hips buck, my fingers tightening on his cock.
“This is probably a really bad fucking idea,” he says, with his lips on my forehead, his breath further warming my already scorching skin.
“Probably,” I mumble breathlessly, but I can’t find it in me to care.
“I don’t know how I can be such good friends with someone who has such shit judgment.” He half laughs, dropping his eyes to watch as his fingers pump in and out of me.
“Your hand between my legs helps.” I cry out when he hits that perfect spot deep inside me.
“Fuck, Finn,” he breathes out. “Fuck. Your pussy is drenched and so fucking tight.” His thumb makes one tortuously slow circle over my clit, and I moan against his stubbled chin. “Tell me to stop,” he rasps.
“I can’t.” I pant, my eyes squeezed shut, head falling back. “I don’t want to.”
I force my eyes back open when he doesn’t say anything. Time seems to stand still, while he grits his teeth, his fingers still working in and out of me, building me up to the crescendo I know is coming. I need to feel his cock. I want to feel him from the inside out.
I look up into his eyes, his fingers still moving inside me. “Please, Hudson. I need more.”
Seconds tick by as he continues fucking me with his fingers. His eyes search mine, and the only sound in the room are the wet, sloppy sound of my arousal around his fingers. I’m panting and his pupils are blown wide with desire.
“Fuck it,” he grits out. “Turn around.”
I whimper when his fingers slide from me to turn me by the shoulders, so I’m facing the pantry door. He sucks in a breath when he sees my ass in the tiny, cheeky purple lace panties I’m wearing. Then, his hands are on me, yanking the lace down my hips, before roughly nudging my legs open wider with his knee.
“I’m gonna ruin this perfect, little cunt too,” he grunts, spreading me even wider to get a good look at my pussy from behind.
Anticipation heightening every sense, I moan out a reply, “Yes. Oh, God, yes. Fuck me,please.”
He lines up and thrusts into me in one stroke, his chest dragging along my back.
“Fuck!” I cry out, my hands hitting the pantry door in front of me. So much for being quiet. The feeling of him inside me is immaculate. It’s like too much oxygen; it makes my head spin and my legs shake.
He pounds up into me, his cock creating a delicious burn and stretch that quickly fades into sheer, euphoric pleasure. He thrusts again, fingers digging into my hips. With my hands braced on the door, I turn my head to the side, cheek flush with the wood, and give over to the sensations of this man driving my body higher.
