Page 39 of Run, Run, Roommates
Instead of continuing, Marco pulls back to look up at me. “I think you keep asking me if things are okay because somewhere deep inside you thinks that none of this is okay. That’s the purity culture talking, Brin. I promise everything is going to be okay. I will take care of you and I will make this good for you . . . if you want to keep going?”
“I do, I do,” I say quickly. “You’re right. It’s this nagging voice, but it’s not real. I want this.”
Marco bends his head and breathes one word onto my skin. “Good.” He’s holding on to the backs of my thighs, right where they meet my ass. His fingers trace a slow, lazy line across my pants, and I squirm against him. “This is real,” he says. “How much I want to pleasure you is very real.”
I shudder and, emboldened, I roll slightly over to my side and reach my free hand down to grab Marco through his pants.
His eyes fly open and he grabs me, letting his fingers curl around my wrist. “Stop that,” he pants. “There’s only so much I can take before I’m going to make a mess.”
I flush even harder, flattered that he thinks I could make him cum in his pants.
He drags my hand away, yet still arches up to rub against me the best he can. I meet his hips with mine and then we’re making out again.
Friction against Marco feels so good. The fly of his jeans sits right against my clit and Marco lets me take the lead, rubbing myself over and over again against him. We’re not even making out anymore; I’m panting too hard and Marco’s pressed his head back into the arm of the couch, the muscles of his neck straining and his eyes squeezed shut.
His Adam’s apple is right in front of me, and I lick it.
It bobs when he laughs, a pained noise. “Fuck, Brin.”
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Yeah? How long?”
“Probably fourteen-ish months.”
He laughs. “Since we moved in together?”
I nod. I’m still twisting my hips, rubbing against his straining erection. “How about you? Is there anything you’ve wanted to do to me?”
Marco’s eyes flash. “Everything.”
“Come on,” I tease, and nibble on his neck. “One specific thing.”
“Well, I definitely want to watch you use that toy. Maybe even on me.”
I shudder. Wow. I did not know that it would turn me on so much to think about that.
“Brin? Is that something you’d like?”
I realize I’ve stopped moving. “Yeah,” I say. “But right now, I just . . .” I move my hips against him again.
His voice gets deeper. “What do you need? What do you want?”
I bite my lip and look up at him. “I really want to keep going.”
I have a moment of doubt—I know that’s not specific, and it’s probably not what Marco was looking for, but he accepts it anyway.
Effortlessly, Marco wraps his arms around me and stands up from the couch. I let out an “eep,” which makes him laugh. “Oh is this what it’s like way up here?”
He presses a hard kiss to my mouth while walking us into our bedroom.
The room spins as I fall backward onto the bed. Marco shucks off his jeans, leaving his boxer-briefs on.
Hello thighs.
He runs his hands up my legs and hooks his fingers into my yoga pants, waiting for permission. I nod and he peels them off my legs. I’m not wearing any underwear beneath, so the cool air hits me right where I’m flushed and hot from rubbing against Marco.
Marco kneels on the bed and helps me shed my shirt and bra. Then he picks my foot up and brings it to his mouth. He squeezes hard and then softly runs his lips over the arch of my foot, tickling me. I try to kick out and can barely move.
