Page 118 of Chasing Home
His Adam’s apple bobs as he drops his head and kisses me softly before pulling back. I chase his lips, leaning forward to taste him again. I’m buzzing beneath my skin and between my legs. If I hadn’t worn panties tonight, I’m positive I’d be dripping down my legs at this point.
“I can’t speak for all men, Rory. And right now, the thought of other men taking up space in that head of yours makes me want to fuck you like a beast, and I’m not a beast, darlin’. That’s not me.”
“You make me feel like one too,” I admit softly, drifting my touch down the length of his arm and circling his wrist.
He drops his eyes to where I hold him, watching with strained focus as I guide his hand to my chest, between my breasts, where I know my heart thumps for him. His breaths are huffed, growing louder in the silence the further down my body I bring his hand. I shiver, unable to help it.
“Are you going to let me take you here, beautiful? Because if not, I need you to stop.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard his voice so garbled and strained. Not even our first time together. This is different, heavier. Something almost permanent about it.
Gathering the bottom hem of my dress with my opposite hand, I bring his to rest between my legs, answering him without words. I witness the moment he feels how wet my panties are. His pupils expand, jaw straining with tension. A hot, damp puff of air hits my lips a second before he’s kissing me hard and dipping his tongue deep, stroking mine with it.
I lose grip on his wrist when he twists it and tugs my panties to the side, exposing my bare pussy to the evening air. The first stroke of his finger along my slit has me jerking against the wall.
“Wanted to slip my hand beneath your dress all day. But this . . . this is worth the wait. All of this is for me? Fuck, I’m a lucky man.”
“I’ve ruined my panties.”
“No,” he mutters, moving his finger from where I want it. Suddenly, I feel a sharp sting on my hip before the sound of ripping fabric hits my ears and a cool breeze rushes over my entire mound. “Now they’re ruined.”
He lifts my pink panties between us, his eyes crossing slightly before he brings them to his mouth and sucks the gusset. My cheeks flare with heat as he pulls my arousal from the fabric and groans as he does it.
Pulling them from his mouth a beat later, he licks his lips. I watch as he tucks my panties into the back pocket of his jeans and lowers himself to his knees in front of me. My nails dig into the thick material of my dress, keeping it up so I’m bared to him.
“That was good, but you taste so much better like this,” he mutters before parting my pussy with his thumb and forefinger and licking up the length of me. “Fuck yeah, that’s it.”
I gasp an inhale and release my dress, slapping my hand to the wall instead. The material falls over his head, draping over him as he feasts on me, knowing exactly what to do to drive me to the edge quicker and quicker each time.
Two fingers slide inside, stretching me as he flicks my clit with his tongue. Curling his fingers, he applies pressure to my G-spot and strokes it over and over until I’m crying out.
“Shh, you’ll draw attention to us,” he warns, teasing his teeth over my clit.
I shake, biting down on my tongue to stifle my moans. I’ve never done anything like this in public before, and even though we’re hidden, it wouldn’t be hard for someone to find us here. Why does that make me ache even more?
“I need you to come for me now, darlin’. I’m close to comin’ in my pants, and I don’t want to waste it in my briefs instead of buried deep in your cunt.”
“Your mouth is fil—” I start before losing the words.
A third finger drives into me, and I lose my vision as my mind gets swept out from under me. I scream without sound, my throat bared to the sky. Johnny’s moans vibrate over my clit as he sucks hard until I push him away, too sensitive.
He pulls his head from beneath my dress, expression feral with the desire for more. I’m a rag doll for him, allowing him to move me every which way when he gently grabs my arms and twists me to face the wall. With a hand to my spine, he encourages me to bend.
“Put your hands on the wall, baby.”
The siding scrapes at my palms as I do as I’m told, too blissed-out to argue. There’s no reason to, anyway. I’m too empty, ready and desperate for him to slide deep. To feel that connection that only him buried inside of me brings.
“You’re a vision,” he mumbles, almost to himself.
I moan mindlessly, closing my eyes. My dress is flipped up, my bare ass exposed before he’s dipping his hand between my legs and stroking me again, spreading my wetness around.
The sound of his belt buckle clacking and his zipper lowering blows on the wind, and then he’s there, the soft head of his cock spreading me and sliding between my lips. He nudges it inside of me, giving me a sliver of pleasure before taking it away and pulling back.
“Please, Johnny,” I breathe out.
“I’m the one that begs. Not you. Not ever you.”
“So beg. I need you now.”