Page 139 of Love Unwritten
“Perhaps we could be friends.” I hate the idea as soon as it leaves my mouth, but it’s too late.
“Friends?” He sounds as surprised as he looks.
“You do remember what it’s like to have one that isn’t related to you, right?”
His gaze sharpens. “Do you kiss all your friends like that, or am I an exception to the rule?”
My whole face becomes engulfed in invisible flames.
“Just teasing you, Elle.” He pauses to think. “If you want to be friends, then I can do that.” He smiles, and my heart rate climbs until I can feel my pulse racing in my neck.
I’ve made a huge mistake tonight. Well, two mistakes, to be exact. The first was thinking I could kiss Rafael once and end it at that, while the second was even worse.
We could be friends.
I want to smack my head and mouth at the same time for suggesting such a thing. Men like Rafael aren’t the type you befriend. They’re the kind you could fall in love with, whether you want to or not, because they have this magnetism that draws you into their orbit.
I fell into this black hole in high school when I first developed a crush on him, and I’m falling into a similar pattern, although this time, I’m not crushing on a person who never truly existed.
I’m developing feelings for the real Rafael, and it absolutely terrifies me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Rafael
Friends. The idea sounds as stupid now as it did two minutes ago when I left Ellie, seeing as my cock has yet to settle down because of my new friend. My frustration follows me all the way back to my cabin, where I remove my pants before climbing into bed.
There is no way in hell this platonic Hail Mary is going to work, but the alternative of us hooking up to get each other out of our systems is likely to fail. Just the thought of her lips pressed against mine and her hands in my hair sends another rolling wave of pleasure through me, as if she is right here next to me doing the very damn thing I’m daydreaming about.
My lower half aches with a need so strong, I can’t ignore it.
With a sigh, I push my boxers down and reach for my cock. The tip is already moist, and with a few pumps, I gather enough to slicken my shaft.
Pleasuring myself over the last two years has felt more like scratching an itch than something I did for enjoyment, but tonight is different.
I shut my eyes and allow my mind to drift. My pumps are lazy—
No.
It’s not my hand wrapped around my cock but Ellie’s. She is the one in my bed, looking up at me with those sparkling hazel eyes that haunt my dreams while she teases my shaft with the tip of her tongue.
I’m downright depraved to imagine my cock sinking into her mouth, inch by inch, until she can’t take any more. She wants to—I can tell based on the way she tries and fails—but she can’t.
Some guys get excited by gagging someone, but I don’t need that to get off. I’d much rather watch Ellie swallow as much of my cock as she can while I sit back and enjoy her show.
And what a performance it is.
She alternates between kissing, sucking, and pumping, all while I do everything possible to stay sane. My girl is a tease, taking me to the edge only to push me away.
My girl.
Yeah, I could get used to the sound of it.
Ellie tormenting me is both the best and worst kind of payback. I would do the same thing as I take her to the edge before pulling back over and over again until I finally decide that she can come.
My cock jerks at that particular visual, and more of my arousal oozes from the tip.
I shut my eyes again and concentrate. Ellie’s pumps, which were slow at first, switch to a faster tempo that sends a blindingly hot rush down my chest and straight toward my balls.