moans and lifts a leg around my waist.
Her tongue is in my mouth and my hand is rubbing up the back of her leg and I’m inches from the heat of her when a door slams somewhere and laughter echoes through the space.
She giggles against my mouth and pushes my hand away. “They’ll see us. C’mon, hurry.”
She grabs my hand and it’s a race up the stairs, pounding through the metal handled door, and running along the hallway to her apartment. She fumbles with the key while I nibble on the back of her neck, and then the door opens and we fall inside.
She immediately locks up behind us, then jumps at me. We almost crash to the floor but somehow, I manage to remain standing even while we attack each other with lips and tongues and roaming hands.
Clothes litter the floor around us. I step back, an attempt to slow our frantic movements so I can examine her in the low lights streaming in through the windows.
“Don’t move,” I whisper the words into her ear, like we’re in a church instead of an apartment in Manhattan.
Surprisingly, she listens, and I walk around her slowly, taking my time. With a careful touch, I trace over her shoulder, down her arm, over her stomach, memorizing every part of her with my fingers and leaving a trail of goosebumps in my wake.
Stepping behind her, I press a kiss to where her shoulder meets her neck and trail a line with my lips down her back, pressing a final kiss to her lower back.
Her breathing is erratic. Her hands clench at her sides.
When I slide a hand between her legs from behind, needing to feel how much she wants me, she moans and spreads her legs. I rub her lightly, stroking her slickness while need takes root and grows in my body like an expanding balloon of want. I remove my hand from her before I completely lose it and she spins around, her hands grabbing at me. “Guy, I can’t take it anymore. Please.”
“Wait.” I take both of her hands in mine. “I want to do this in a bed.”
“Ugh. Fine, let’s go.” She yanks me toward the bedroom, all angry kitten and frustrated impatience.
I can’t stop laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much in one night.
We trip over our clothes in our haste to get to the bedroom. In the darkness, it’s mostly a jangle of big lumps. Her bed is unmade and she shoves stuff, clothes I imagine, off the comforter before tugging me down next to her.
“Don’t judge me. I’m not as neat as you are. How are you so neat with two teen girls?”
I kiss her shoulder. “I have a maid. She comes twice a month.”
“Ah.” Her hand runs down my chest, over my stomach, making me suck in a breath, and then she wraps her fingers around the swelling hardness of my erection.
I groan. “Don’t worry. It’s perfect.” I kiss her hard on the mouth and pull back when she slides her hand up and down me. “You’re perfect.”
“That is a lie.” She squeezes me gently and I groan out a laugh.
“Not to me.” I lean into her, kissing her ear. “This is a perfect ear.” I kiss her collar bone. “This is a perfect collar bone.” I shift over her, sliding my tongue down her belly and spreading her knees open.
She sucks in a breath when I blow a heated breath over her exposed flesh.
“This is…definitely perfect.”
I start slow, small caresses with my lips, keeping everything light and gentle. I’m in no rush, taking my time, learning what she likes, what makes her squirm and pant and beg for mercy. Until she groans and her hips shift toward me, aching for more. Then I let go. Feasting on her, delighting in the way she moans and clutches at my hair when I hit a sensitive spot. I don’t let up until she’s finished all over my tongue and then I kiss my way back up her body.
“I want to return the favor,” she breathes, grabbing for my pounding erection.
“Later. I need you now. Do you have condoms hiding around here somewhere?” I lift up her pillow in search and she laughs.
“Not here. In the drawer.” She rolls over to reach into the nightstand and I run a hand down her backside, enjoying the smoothness of her. She hands me the condom and I slide it on, watching her watch me, biting her lip in