Damn it Taking things slow had never been so hard.
Speaking of hard…Archer had me on my back, a growing hardness between his legs neither of us could ignore. With the TV going on in the background, we broke apart our lip lock, both of us panting, both of us wishing the other would make the first move and say fuck taking things slow. I wouldn’t be the one to do it, but then again I wasn’t the one with a raging boner between my legs.
I gave Archer a smirk, flipping us so that I straddled him, my legs on either side of him. My midsection rested just above his, the bulge of his cock in his pants directly beneath my aching core. I would like nothing more than to whip off this boy’s pants and shove his dick in me, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.
You know, we were taking things slow, so that’s exactly what I started doing.
Kissing him, nibbling on his bottom lip, I began to grind my hips against his. Dry-humping him, in other words. It wasn’t nearly the same as actually doing the deed, but seeing as how his erection wasn’t going away and I wanted to feel that dick, this was the best compromise.
My hands went beneath his shirt, feeling the muscles residing there. His flat, defined abs, his sculpted pectorals. I ran my fingernails down his bare chest, feeling him shudder beneath me as I picked up speed with my hips. I felt his cock twitching in his pants every now and then, like the dick was asking to be freed. Alas, freed it would not be. Not today.
Maybe I was overdoing it, but a part of me wanted to make him come in his pants by dry-humping him.
Eh, it was a worthy goal, I think.
I ground against him with vigor, rubbing myself along him, wishing there were no clothes between us to hinder the sensations. Archer moaned against my lips, his hands finding my hips and helping me keep a steady pace. His hips rocked every few moments, and eventually I had to stop kissing him just to breathe as I rubbed myself along him.
My clit was getting stimulation from the bulge in his pants, so it felt good for me, too. I didn’t think I’d orgasm, but that was fine. For once, this wasn’t about me.
Archer began to tense beneath me, and I took it as a sign to go at him harder, faster, to grind my hips along his length as viciously as I could. His chest rumbled with a groan, and I watched as his eyelids slammed shut. The fingers on the hands holding my hips squeezed as he came, and I kept my pace up until I was sure it was over.
“Oh,” he whispered as I rolled off him, “damn.”
I propped up my head on a hand, grinning at him. “See? Taking things slow can be fun.” At least his mom didn’t interrupt us that time—although we did miss a good chunk of the show. But that was fine. I knew Archer was only interested in it because I was. No way in hell that boy would be caught dead watching something like this by himself.
“You,” he said, turning his head to look at me, dimples appearing on his cheeks. Those damned dimples got me every single time. I was weak to them, really. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I knew he didn’t mean it like that, but I hoped he was wrong. I didn’t want to be the death of him, or anyone else. I wanted everyone to be alive, safe and healthy. Was that so wrong?
“Don’t say that,” I told him, leaning my cheek against his chest, listening to his heart beating rapidly inside it.
“I mean it. It might sound stupid, but…I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want you. All of my life had been about trying to avoid Brittany, and then giving in to her every command because of the dirt she had on my family. I never let myself feel. I didn’t want to,” he said. “And then you came. You came and you ruined me, Jaz.”
I blinked, suddenly feeling so very tired. “I didn’t ruin you.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I murmured. I didn’t mean to ruin anybody. That was never my intention…until these Midpark kids tried to ruin me. Then it’d become tit for tat. I never came here with my eyes on