THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,211

pink, hard nipples. I draw in a deep breath and hold it in awe. It looks as amazing as I imagined it would. Almost hotter than seeing her naked. Almost.

She swallows loudly, and a mirage of my cum dripping back off her tongue and sliding down her throat appears. It’s squashed when she speaks. “The art of forgetting is the only lesson I’m unable to master,” Morganna explains, her chest heaving with the weight of what she’s saying—probably what she’s remembering, despite what she’s proclaiming. “My only hope is to cover up what I’m trying to forget. Okay?” she asks.

My chest tightens the same time I close my eyes. I nod, even though every other part of my body wants to disagree. My feet want to run away, my hands itch to grab her, throw her down, and make her forget she even has something to forget. My mind knows I’m treading on thin ice, and my heart? That fucker knows this probably won’t end in anything except heartbreak. Yet, my head is still nodding like some obedient fucking puppy.

That’s the thing with Morganna. You can’t say no, even when it’s the only logical answer. Prowling to the side of the bed, she looks down at me and a funny thing happens. Suddenly, I’m the one forgetting. She’s just a woman who wants a man. She’s not Stone’s wife or the unattainable dime piece that’s been a resident in my life since before I knew she was exactly what I’ve always wanted…needed.

My dick pulses with her every movement she makes, with every blink of her eyes. I’m rapt, unable to pretend I’m looking anywhere except the place I want to be deep inside of. Tucking her thumbs into the strings at her waist, she steps out of the lace scraps and straddles my knees. The small tattoo on her hip catches my attention, but only for a split second. Her pussy is shaved and it looks like it will probably be as smooth as silk, the wet lips glistening like a homing beacon. Enter me. Enter me. Enter me.

She unfastens the bra and lets it slip to the floor. “Kiss me,” she orders, her breathy voice captivating my every particle.

I’m not supposed to talk, but I rasp, “Where?” With her naked there is only one place my lips want to be. “Kiss you where? Specify please,” I add. My fingers are clutched behind my head so tightly they’re falling asleep, the tingling forcing my attention on something other than my throbbing cock.

Morganna touches herself between her legs with a few fingers and my gaze immediately freezes there. Flashback scenes from the night at her house, watching her play with herself, crash the party. She had all the fun. Dragging her wet fingers from her pussy up the front of her stomach, between her tits and finally landing on her perfect pout, she slides them along her bottom lip.

“Lip gloss. Except not,” she says, winking. She points with a perfectly polished nail to her mouth. “Kiss me here, Steven. Right here. Taste me.”

With not a second of hesitation I lean up, careful to leave my hands by my sides, and press my mouth against hers. A loud moan escapes when I let my tongue dart out to lick her lips. Morganna wraps her arms around my neck and presses her full breasts against my chest. I can’t help the awareness of how she’s positioned herself atop me. I could merely grab her thick hips and push her onto my cock in one fluid motion. She’s wet enough. I’m harder than a fucking rock. The way her tongue and lips are owning me, I know she wants me inside her. I more than want it. I need it. I won’t act on it, though. Self-control isn’t usually one of my strong suits in the bedroom, but with her it has to be.

She breaks the kiss to run her warm tongue down the side of my throat and across my collarbone. I watch as she bites me—leaving red marks as she works her way over my pecs and then lower to my abs. Praise the good Lord I worked out today, because the way she’s moving her mouth over my well sculpted eight pack makes me think she approves. Clutching the quilt by my sides is the only thing that keeps me from taking her. She’s not yours to take, the sadistic part of my brain whispers. She flicks her gray cat eyes