Page 77 of Trusting You
I lighten my grip on her thigh, stroking with my thumb. “What I’m feeling for you, it’s real.”
“Don’t lie to me.” She’s still looking at me, but her eyes are glittering harshly like they’re filling with tears.
“It’s not a lie.” And I realize, with trepidation, that it’s not. I want this girl, more than a quick fuck, more than a one-night stand, more than a training run to get back to the Locke everyone knew and wanted to fuck. And I want all of her. Right now. “Let me prove it.”
“I…”
My hand moves from her leg to the back of her neck, caressing through the soft strands of her hair curled from the humidity, and pulling her close enough that I can lean forward, touch my forehead to hers.
“We can’t,” she whispers.
“I know.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
She tilts her face up so our noses brush and our lips are the barest breath away.
If it’s an invitation, I’m taking it.
I start by licking the seam of her mouth, testing. I don’t want to scare her, and if she doesn’t want this, I’m not going to force it. But when she opens for me, when her tongue tentatively meets mine…
I’m a goner.
I cover her hot mouth in a second, our tongues twining, and I take her with that kiss as if I’m already driving into her. She meets me all the way, groaning, and my cock hardens at the sound. When she submits, her head tilting back, her mouth opening wider, I move on top of her, both of us sliding until she’s on her back. Her legs make room for me, and my free hand slides down the fabric of her dress until I meet warm, goose bumped flesh. I squeeze the back of her thigh, this time much harder, eliciting more groans, more frantic movements from her hands. She scratches as she pulls me closer, her nail tips grinding through my shirt and into my shoulder blades, but I crave the pain, her reaction. I want her naked underneath me.
One of her hands escapes, cups the back of my neck, her fingers twining through my short hair. I move until I’m under her skirt, shifting her underwear to the side…
“Wait,” she pants. “Stop.”
I freeze, both of us breathing heavily.
“We can’t—we can’t have sex,” she says.
“Okay.”
My cock aches, pulses to be let loose, but I’ll keep it in my pants. For her. Though, boy, it fucking hurts.
I start moving off her, but she stops me by gripping my biceps. “Wait. Stop,” she says again.
“Okay?”
“I…I don’t want this to end.”
“Carter, honey,” I say through the blue balls. “You gotta be clearer with me, here.”
“To…” Her gaze slides from mine, thinking. “To keep doing this. But only this. God, I’ve wanted this.”
I think I can follow her words, but I have to be absolutely sure. My hand’s still cupping her thigh, so I trace the soft, sensitive skin lightly. “Do you want me to keep touching you?”
She breathes out, “Yes.”
The tips of my fingers brush against her sex. “Like this?”
When she tips her head back to the ceiling, her back arches. Her chocolate hair falls from her shoulders, darker than night. Her plump, dewy lips part for her moan. I might come on the spot. “God,” she breathes, “I’m going to hell.”
I stroke, and she’s hot and wet against my fingers. I slip in. “I’ll be there to greet you, baby.”