to my throat. “Christ, I wanna fuck you.” A long, sucking lip lock. “Come on, let me fuck you.”
I fist my hand in his shirt, grunting, “Shut. Up.”
Incredibly, he does.
He lets me ride him like this, rocking against the hard cock I can feel beneath his jeans, and it’s sweltering. I can feel a bead of sweat running down the small of my back. Sebastian’s skin is like fire. His mouth works greedily over my neck and lips, taking and taking, like he’s afraid it might get snatched away, so he’s grabbing whatever he can.
I press my palm against the foggy window when a whimper slips past my defenses, sliding into his kiss. He makes a sound back, something guttural and unrestrained, and the throb between my legs grows into an urgent pang. He feels so hard between my legs, he has to be getting chafed or crushed, but he keeps thrusting into it, breaths coming in ragged spurts.
When I take a chance to open my eyes and finally look at him—at his red cheeks and swollen lips and glazed, heavy-lidded sex-eyes—it’s almost enough to send me right over the edge. But that’s not what triggers the coil to spring.
It’s the way he’s watching me so closely. There’s a sweet sort of agony in his face, like the way we’re rocking against each other hurts, but there’s also a flash in his eyes. A sharp delight. Like someone who’s being given something they really wanted. Like he’s enthralled by it. Like maybe all those sweet, dirty words before weren’t just about getting into my pants. Like maybe he actually does think I’m beautiful. Someone worth having.
That’s what takes me to the precipice, sending the wave of an orgasm shuddering between my legs. I’m quiet, gulping my pleasure down, but Sebastian is anything but.
He bites out a sharp, “Oh, fuck,” and groans, slamming a fist into the ceiling. His hips thrust harshly upward, lifting me with him. His razor-sharp jaw tenses and then he exhales, head falling back on the seat.
He never looked away from me once.
It’s in that post-orgasm haze that my stomach drops. The panic floods my chest like rolling waves, building and building. I fumble away from him, limbs shaking.
“Hey, hey, no,” he rushes out, tensing beneath me. “Sugar, just wait.”
I push against the driver’s side door, releasing the latch and tumbling outside. Too stunned by his own orgasm—or possibly the simple fact that I’m just a freak—he doesn’t move quickly enough to stop me. And like I should have done when I first walked into this garage, I run, and never look back.
13
Sebastian
Sugar Voss wants my dick.
Just thinking about it kept me up all night—both my dick and my brain. Even three jerk-off sessions later, I’m still thinking about it. About Sugar. About how she totally wants my dick.
Sure, she ran away after getting a small preview of it, which is unfortunate. With girls, I’m usually the one bailing after the post-orgasm glow fades, but you know. Whatever. I didn’t do anything wrong here.
She kissed me.
She climbed into my lap.
She wanted my dick.
And yeah, she looked fucking gorgeous when she finally let go for a second and let me help her feel good. For a moment there, she actually stopped fighting. Whatever the hell it is that always holds her back was just… gone. Fucked off to orgasm land, I guess. But then just as fast, the wall was back, and there she went. Skittering away. Again. Leaving me with spunk-soaked boxers.
The problem is that I’m just really—fucking monumentally—confused here.
I can’t get it out of my mind when I walk into Dr. Ross’s class the next morning. Naturally, my eyes go right to her seat. It’s not like I wasn’t always checking her out before, but now everything’s jacked up to eleven. I know what she tastes like now. I know what she looks like writhing in my lap. I know that her cheeks get crazy pink when she’s turned on, a lot like when she’s pissed off. Most of all, I know the way her face looks when she comes, and fuck. It’s breathtaking.
I’d almost written off having her altogether. She wasn’t budging. I was just making shit worse and worse, and weirdly, if I couldn’t fuck her, I still wanted to know her. Now that she wants my dick—fuck, I’m so pretty, not even the Ice Princess herself can resist this shit—all the cards are back on the table.
If I thought I wanted her bad