Page 65 of Hopeless
I should stop.
“Yes,” she replies breathlessly. Her stomach presses into my length while my fingers curl around the curve of her ass, teasing that line between her thigh and her pussy. “Yes.”
“Fuck,” I mutter again, because no matter how many times I tell myself I should stop, I won’t.
My hand inches forward until I feel her wetness. I swipe through gently, my body almost shaking under the strain of holding back. The dark part of me wants to flip her over and fuck her. Impale her and listen to her scream my name.
But that’s not what this is. That’s not who she is. I want to handle Bailey with care.
Her hips push back, and the tip of my finger slides in.
“Oh god.” She rolls her forehead over my chest, and I’m pretty sure I stop breathing as she rocks herself against my finger.
“Bailey.” I groan her name and pull out to spread her wetness over her clit. Her legs tremble on either side of my waist as I do. “Fuck.”
Her lips land back on my chest, and one hand grips my shoulder while the other braces above my head on the bed frame.
I press in again, further this time, and feel her clamp down around my finger. “You’re fucking soaked.”
She nods once more.
With one finger inside her, the others explore between her legs. Lips, clit, sliding up and down her slit. “If it’s too much, you’ll tell me?”
“Yes, yes.” She chants the words, hot shaky breaths against my skin. “Do it again.”
“Do what?” I murmur against her ear as she writhes above me.
“Finger fuck me.” Her words are languid, not shy at all.
“Like this?” I slide in and out, setting an even and torturous tempo.
She lifts her head to peer over her shoulder. No doubt trying to see the way her body fits against mine, the way I have angled my arm around behind her. “Yeah, like that.”
My muscles burn, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s nothing compared to the way my dick is throbbing from feeling Bailey all tight and wet, riding my fingers.
“What about this?” I slow my motions and add a second finger to join the first, toying with her entrance before easing into her slick heat. A gentle twist of my hand has her crying out, and her head drops back down to my chest.
“You like that, Bailey? Are two fingers better than one?” I push in further, spurred on by the needy mewling noises she’s making.
A soft, “Yes,” spills from her damp lips before she drags them over my collarbones, up the side of my neck—while still avoiding my face.
“In and out only? Or with a twist? I want to know.” My utmost desire is to know absolutely everything that drives her crazy. We can learn it together.
“Twist.” She’s gone monosyllabic, and I take a perverse sort of pleasure in stealing her pleasure and her words.
I work both fingers in and out, slowly twisting, her wetness surging around me.
Her body trembles.
Her hips rotate.
Her body pulses.
Our breaths come out sharp and choppy.
“Look at me, Bailey. You gonna come for me, Bailey? Just like I told you to?”
“Yesss,” she hisses, now bucking against me as she draws back just enough to meet my eyes.
