Page 19 of The Weight of Love
“We’re just friends, Gran.”
“Mmmph, sure. So were your grandfather and me. Didn’t stop him from sneaking into my window every chance he got.”
“Gran, gross.”
“I was young once; don’t you forget it when you’re working on that cardio.”
Her invitation lingers in my brain. I know I shouldn’t. Maybe I need her one more time to get her out of my system.
I arrived at the gym around my usual time, but my body was still tense after seeing Stella at the church a few hours earlier. Her eyes lock on mine as soon as I walk in, asking the question without speaking a word, and I’m trapped. I can feel how much need there is there.
I give her a single, firm nod.
She angles her head towards the shower; there’s no question now. I need this. Consequences be damned.
Chapter Nine
Stella
I close the bathroom door behind me, leave it unlocked, and step backward until my back is pressed against the cool tile wall, grounding myself for a fleeting moment. Then, my breath halts as the door swings open.
He’s on me in seconds, molding his body against mine as he presses me firmly against the wall, tangling his hands in my hair as our lips crash hard and searching.
My hands are on him, tugging at those damn gray sweatpants, desperate to touch him. I finally reach his beautiful cock, hard and ready. The kiss breaks as I drop to my knees, looking up at him as I draw the tip of my tongue up the base of his cock, up the entire length, before letting him sink into my mouth roughly.
He grips my hair, guiding the rhythm, and a moan escapes from the back of my throat. I can feel his body tense as my hands grip hard at his thighs. I need him inside me. This isn’t enough.
“Fuck yes. Up Now.”
It’s not a suggestion; he’s got that dominant tone again, which causes a shiver to roll down my spine. He pulls me up towards him and strips my shirt and bra off in one swift movement before turning me around and firmly placing my hands on the wall.
“Keep them there.”
He presses his body flush against mine again, and his dick presses firmly against my ass. His hands reach around, cupping my breasts and pinching at my nipples before one continues trailing down the plane of my stomach. I grind slowly against him, relishing the catch in his breath.
His hand slides beneath the band of my yoga pants, and his fingers slide roughly into my wet and eager pussy. It’s more than ready for him, but I don’t just want his fingers. I need his cock filling me, stretching me, and pounding the last shred of sense out of me.
I grind myself hard against his fingers, working myself as much as he’s expertly playing with me.
“Clark, please…fuck me.”
It’s a desperate plea. I’m on the verge of exploding for him just from his hands again, and he stops dead.
“No, Darlin’, you’re not done begging yet…”
Both of his hands withdraw to the band of my pants, and he’s pulling them off agonizingly slow. I move to push myself off the wall and turn, and she stops me by the hips, running his hands back up and forcing my hands against the wall.
“Did I say you could move them yet?”
A shiver hits as he leans forward, his breath tickling the skin on the back of my neck. He kisses and nips his way along that skin, and his name escapes my lips in a light groan.
“Be still.”
I try hard to comply, but his fingers are back in my pussy, and I am losing the capacity for rational thought again.
“Clark, I can’t, please?”
He stops and steps away from me. The loss of his nearness leaves me cold and needy. He spins me with a firm grip, a silent command.