His eyes roam around, from the tops of my breasts to my belly button ring. “That you blush with your whole body.” I blush harder, making him chuckle.
My heart sighs at the rich sound. I want to live here, in this moment. It’s honest and almost fantastical. It’s a different world altogether, a land of no rules, no past or future, just the present.
With his other hand, he snaps the clasp of my bra and lets the cups dangle on the sides, exposing my swollen tits and rosy nipples.
My skin combusts. I’m breathing with my entire body now, shaking and undulating. I want to cover myself even as my nipples itch to be touched, pulled at, sucked on. No one, not a single person has seen me this way, not even the night I gave Caleb my virginity in darkness.
Thomas licks his lips and gulps in a shuddering breath.
He needs me. And that makes me need him more.
“I’m so achy,” I whisper, and he stares at me with dark and dilated pupils. “Please, you have to touch me. You just have to.”
My begging arouses him and that, in turn, arouses me, so much so that my innermost muscles clench and gape repeatedly.
Thomas presses his thumb at the base of my neck. My pulse skitters and then pounds. With hooded eyes, he trails his thumb down, bumping over my collarbone, traveling through the valley of my breasts. Just his thumb.
“Oh God…” My voice doesn’t sound like mine; it’s throaty and abraded with lust.
He circles around my breast, caressing the top, winding around the side, and scratching the bottom.
“Like this?” he asks in my ear, his shirt whispering over my skin. My right leg lifts up and hooks around his hips, cradling his cock close to my covered but needy pussy.
“Yes, but more.” I press my half-naked body to his clothed one, getting off on the friction.
He repeats the motion on my left breast, over and over. My nipples jut out in anticipation of his touch, but it never comes. He tortures me with light caresses, never giving me something to hold on to, reducing my skin to a canvas of goose bumps.
“You’re so mean,” I tell him, frustrated but leaning into him nonetheless.
“But you like it.” He blows a hot breath in my ear.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Yes.”
“I should just leave.”
“Yeah.”
“This is wrong,” I moan, circling my hips, bumping against his cock. “The wrongest thing I’ve ever done.”
Of all the times, he picks this moment to pinch my nipple and give it a harsh pull, much like he did with my belly button ring. Like before, I give in to the call and rub my pulsating breasts against his chest, searching for that magical friction.
“God…what are we doing?” I pant into his shirt.
“The wrongest thing we’ve ever done,” he says, repeating my words. “So yeah, you should leave. You should just go, and don’t ever come back.” I look up at him and witness something splitting open in his expression, leaving him completely exposed.
Flicking his thumb over my nipple, he massages my entire breast in his palm. “Because I’m selfish, Layla. I’ll ruin you, set you on fire, and won’t even look back. I’ll take and take until you’re empty and hollow.” He keeps at his slow torture. “You should push me away, shout at me for undressing you, and then you should slam the door in my face on your way out. And when you’re out there in the hallway, knock three doors down and report me.”
“Never. I’ll never tell on you.”
One side of his lips quirks up. “Never is a long time, Miss Robinson.”
“Maybe.”
Both of his hands move up and cradle my cheek. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”
“I’m not that young,” I say insistently, pressing myself closer to him, trying to climb up his sexy body like I did at the bar.
“Go, Layla.” He doesn’t let me go, though. “I’ll probably steal your naiveté too.”
Yes, I should go. I should go, drop the class, and never come back.
I should.
I should.
It could be that I’m stupid and young as he says I am, but I feel the loneliness in his teasing voice. I see the clenching of his back muscles when Hadley left him in the room. I hear his never-ending battle with his impulse.
Boldness strikes me and I circle my arms around his neck, flattening my breasts on his hard chest. “Then maybe I should just give it to you so you don’t have to steal—my naiveté, I mean, so you could help me grow up.”
He is silent for a few seconds and I’m scared I crossed a line. It’s such a funny thought after the way I’m wrapped around him that I bite my lip to stop an inappropriate, hysterical laugh from bubbling out.
“You want me to make you a grown-up, Miss Robinson?” His eyes smolder, and I’m glad I’ve got my arms around him or I would’ve dropped to the floor in a puddle. Something is so…weirdly erotic in that sentence.
I don’t have time to analyze it because he begins moving his hips, giving me that sweet friction, and Jesus fucking Christ, it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced. The pressure is making my wounded pussy bleed cum.
He leans into me, curls his large body around my small one. “How do you suggest I do that?”
“I don’t know.” I gasp, rocking along with him.
“Well, if you don’t know then I can’t help you.” He pauses his movements.
“P-Please, don’t stop. I-I…”
“You what?”
I look at him with drugged eyes. He appears darker, bigger, like he can absorb the world into his body until there’s nothing left but him and me. “I need it. I need you…”
“To do what?”
“To move.”
“And that’s it?”
“No. I want more.” I push my hips against his and flex my thighs around his waist. “I want you to fuck me.”
I can’t believe I said that. I can’t believe it was my voice, desperate and small, like that of a little girl.
He breathes in sharply. There’s excitement in his eyes, dark and mean and so fucking irresistible. I feel things change between us. Whatever dynamic our non-relationship relationship had has now shifted.
“Fuck you, how? With my big, hard cock?”
I’m shocked and so fucking aroused. There are alarms ringing in my head, blaring, honking, bellowing. This is so wrong, but his guttural voice still penetrates through and shakes a thick drop of cum out of me. I feel it roll out of my pussy and soak into my already wet, white innocent panties.
“Yes. God, please.” I rotate my hips once more against his stationary body.
“Are you sure you can take it?” He grinds his forehead into mine. “Maybe it won’t fit in your tiny pussy.”
I jerk at his words. “No. No, it will. I know it will. It’ll fit,” I whine, hungry and eager and playing my part in this weird game.
“What if it’s painful? What if it stretches your hole so much that it hurts?” His fingers twitch and flex around my face. He’s loving the rush of power. He’s getting off on the control he has over me.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. I’ll take the pain. I’ll do anything.”
“For my cock?”
He is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, big and brooding, his face a mosaic of lust and need.
Yeah, I’ll do anything. For you.