skin. She tugs at my T-shirt and I pull it over my head, tossing it aside, kissing her again, hard and fast, unable to wait for more. I always want more of her.
My fingers slide under the white tee Pri wears, my white tee, that’s on her body. Warm, soft skin greets me and my hand finds her breast, teasing her nipple. She arches into my touch and I shove the cotton up just enough to bare her nipple, licking and sucking the pink puckered tip.
Her soft sounds of pleasure undo any resistance I have left as if I’ve ever had any with Pri. I drag the T-shirt over her head, my gaze raking over her perky naked breasts, my cock pressing against my zipper.
My mouth covers hers again and my hand slides under her backside, cupping her cheek, and molding all her soft, fuckable curves nice and close. We’re fucking. This is us fucking, just fucking.
Her fingers dive into my hair again and tug roughly, and there it is, that side of her that tempts me in all kinds of dirty ways. She thinks she understands me, even knows me, but she hasn’t even begun to see who I am. What I am. And damn it to hell, I want to show her. I want to show her and I want her to be able to handle it, but that’s not what just fucking is about. Fucking is about not caring if she can handle it.
I pinch her nipple a little too hard, and she gasps in my mouth and repays the favor, her fingernails digging erotically into my arm. “You’re afraid of me,” she accuses.
Stunned, I pull back, our lips lingering a breath apart. “You’re the one who should be scared.”
“And yet, I’m not.”
“You will be,” I promise, and I don’t give her time to push for more. I slant my mouth over hers and a wild, hot need erupts between us. I want my tongue all over her, I want to drive her wild, but the absolute physical need to bury myself inside her, to feel her warm and tight around me is just too fierce. My hands slide under her waistband and caress the oversize sweats down her legs, all the way down. I get rid of her shoes and socks as well, and then she is naked, her ivory skin flushed, while my heart is pounding.
Our eyes meet and there’s a punch in my chest I have never known with another woman. She sits up, her arms wrapping my neck, and I lower myself over her. But I don’t kiss her. I lean in and bury my face in her neck, inhaling her scent that is still somehow, impossibly fresh and feminine. She’s naked, while I am not, still proving herself willing to be vulnerable, and at my mercy, and I don’t know why. She is not naïve. She is not even close to naïve.
Suddenly, an urge to push her the way she wants to be pushed, the way I almost pushed her at the cabin overtakes me. I could make her see that darker side of me, but damn it, I’m not ready to let her go.
Her hand is on my face, her fingers in my hair, tugging me to her, and when I draw back, there’s no going slow. Our mouths collide, and I’m cradling her to me.
“Adrian,” she pants, and I know what she wants, what I want.
I don’t even remember shoving my pants down, and then I’m sliding into the warm, snug heat of her body. I drive into her, and she gasps, arching into me. I catch her knee and drag it to my hip and thrust again and again. Low moans and pants fill the cavern until she’s shuddering into release, her body spasming around me, dragging me with her.
When our bodies are calm, I roll off Pri and fix my pants before I grab her a tissue. In silence, she dresses, and damn it, we’re awkward again. I don’t even know how it happened. And I never even fully undressed. Maybe she thinks that’s because I just couldn’t wait to be inside her, which is true. Or that I need to be ready if we’re attacked. Also true. Or maybe she thinks it’s because fucking her just wasn’t that important to me. Not true. Not even close to true. Right now, in this moment, it’s time to admit it: Pri matters to me.
Too.
Damn.
Much.
Offering her privacy, claiming some