Page 32 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
“Probably,” I agreed. “Most of my ideas are.”
And then, because three cocktails and a lifetime of scientific curiosity made me brave, I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his.
For one terrifying second, he didn’t respond. Then his hand slid up to tangle in my hair, and he was kissing me back with an intensity that stole my breath. His lips were firm and demanding, his tongue sweeping into my mouth like he was claiming territory.
I moaned, the sound swallowed by his kiss as he sat up, pulling me fully onto his lap. The movement pressed my core against the growing hardness beneath his shorts, and I gasped at the contact.
“This what you want, Lab Bunny?” he growled against my lips, his hands sliding under my shirt to span my waist. “Been thinking about it since I saw you dancing.”
“Yes,” I breathed, rocking against him shamelessly. “Fuck, Austin. I’ve been thinking about it since those texts.”
He made a sound low in his throat, something between a groan and a growl, before capturing my mouth again. This kiss was even deeper, hungrier, his tongue exploring my mouth with devastating thoroughness while his hands roamed my body.
“Too many clothes,” he muttered, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I raised my arms, letting him pull it over my head, leaving me in just my bra and jeans.
His eyes darkened as they swept over me. “Christ, you’re gorgeous.”
Before I could respond, he’d flipped our positions, pressing me back against the carpet, his weight deliciously heavy over me. His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, then down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“This what you imagined?” he asked, his voice rough as he nipped at my collarbone. “When you texted me about wanting my mouth on you?”
“Yes,” I gasped as his hand found my breast, kneading it through the thin fabric of my bra. “But the reality is so much better.”
He groaned, his hips grinding against mine in a way that made me see stars. “Need to taste you,” he muttered, moving lower, his stubble scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin as he kissed his way down my body.
His fingers worked open the button of my jeans with practiced ease, and I lifted my hips to help him slide them down my legs. The cool air hit my overheated skin, making me shiver with anticipation.
“Wanted this since I first saw you in those ridiculous microbe pajamas,” Austin confessed, his mouth hovering over the damp fabric between my thighs. “Wanted to shut you up, make you scream instead of ramble.”
“Yes, please,” I begged shamelessly, beyond caring how desperate I sounded. “Austin, please.”
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my underwear, dragging them down my legs with agonizing slowness. When I was finally naked from the waist down, he sat back on his heels, just looking at me with such raw hunger that I felt myself getting wetter under his gaze.
“More beautiful than I imagined,” he murmured, his hands spreading my thighs wider.
“The couch,” I managed to say, suddenly remembering his knee. “Your leg?—”
He cut me off with a hard kiss. “Don’t care about my fucking knee right now,” he growled against my mouth. Then he wasmoving down again, positioning himself between my legs. “Only care about making you come on my tongue like you described in those texts.”
And then his mouth was on me, hot and insistent, his tongue finding all the places I’d told him about in our late-night exchanges. I arched up against him, a cry tearing from my throat as he circled my clit with devastating precision.
“Austin!” I gasped, my hands flying to his hair, anchoring him to me as pleasure built with frightening speed. “Oh god, yes, just like that.”
He groaned against me, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open for his relentless assault. When he slid one finger inside me, then two, curving them upward while his tongue continued its merciless attention to my clit, I shattered.
My orgasm hit with the force of a chemical reaction, waves of pleasure radiating outward as I cried out his name. He worked me through it, not easing up until I tugged at his hair, overstimulated and desperate for more at the same time.
“Condom,” he muttered, pulling back, his lips glistening with evidence of my pleasure. “In my wallet.”
“Couch,” I insisted, finding my voice. “Your knee, Austin. I’m not responsible for reinjury.”
A flash of amusement crossed his face before it was consumed again by desire. He stood, pulling me up with him and pressing me against the nearest wall. His mouth found mine in a searing kiss that tasted of me and want.
“Better?” he asked, his hands gripping my ass, lifting me effortlessly.
“Much,” I agreed, wrapping my legs around his waist andgasping as his erection pressed against my core through his shorts. “Though I was thinking horizontal.”
“Later,” he promised, carrying me to the couch without breaking our kiss. He sat with me straddling him, fumbling in his discarded shorts for his wallet.
