Beautiful Player Page 91

“You good?” I asked, reaching between us to rub her clit. “Can I make you come first? I don’t think we should finish like this.”

“Can you pull out?”

“Hanna,” I whispered, sucking on her jaw. “What happened to ‘just the tip’?”

“You don’t want to feel what it’s like?” she countered, hands sliding over my ass, hips rocking. “You don’t want to feel me?”

I growled, nipping at her neck. “You are a f**king devious girl.”

She reached down and moved my fingers away from her clit, and took hold of me, rubbing my length over and around her sweet, drenched skin. I groaned into her neck.

And then she guided me there, holding, waiting for me to move my hips. I shifted forward, and back again, feeling the subtle give of her body when the head of my c**k slid just inside. I moved deeper, the tiniest bit into her, just until I felt her stretch around my shaft and I stopped, groaning.

“Fast,” I said. “Quiet.”

“I promise,” she whispered.

I’d expected warmth, but I was unprepared for how warm, how soft, how f**king wet it would feel. I was unprepared to feel dizzy from the feel of her, the sensation of her pulse beating all around me, muscles fluttering, of her tight hungry sounds in my ear telling me how different it was for her, too.

“Fuck,” I grunted, unable to stop from moving all the way into her. “I don’t . . . I can’t f**k like this yet. It’s too good. I’ll come fast.”

She held her breath, hands gripping my arms so tight it hurt. “It’s okay,” she managed, and then let out her breath in a gust. “You always hold out so long. I want it to feel so good you can’t last.”

“You’re so evil,” I hissed and she laughed, turning her head to capture my mouth in a kiss.

We were propped at the edge of the bed, our shirts still on, my jeans around my ankles and her skirt bunched at her hips. We’d just came upstairs to put our things away, freshen up, get situated. It was so bad that we were doing this here, but somehow we were hardly making any sound, and I convinced myself that if I could keep my wits about me, maybe I could f**k her slow enough to keep the bed from squeaking. But then I realized that I was inside her, completely bare, in her parents’ house. I almost came just looking down at where I was buried inside her.

I slid almost all the way out—reveling in how wet I was from her—and inched back in, and then again, and again. And f**k, I was ruined. Ruined for sex with anyone else, ruined for using a condom with this girl.

“Executive decision,” she whispered, voice hoarse, breaths coming out in sharp spikes. “Forget the running. We need to do this five times a day.” Her voice was so faint I pressed my ear to her lips to hear what else she might say. But all I could make out in my haze of sensation were whispered broken sentences with words like hard, and skin and stay inside me after you come.

It was that last idea that did me in, that made me think about coming inside her, kissing her until she grew fevered and urgent again and then growing hard with her tensing all around me. I could f**k her, stay there, and f**k her again before falling asleep inside her.

I moved harder, holding on to her hip, finding that perfect rhythm that didn’t jolt the bed frame, didn’t bounce the aluminum headboard into the wall. The pace where she could still stay quiet, where I could try to hold on until I got her there . . . but it was a losing battle, and it had barely been a few minutes.

“Oh shit, Plum,” I groaned. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I threw my head back, feeling my orgasm barreling up my legs, down my spine, coming too soon. I pulled out, jerking my c**k hard in my fist as she reached between her legs, pressing her fingers to her clit.

Footsteps sounded just outside in the hall, and my eyes flew to Hanna’s to see if she heard it, too, just a split second before someone pounded on the door.

My vision blurred and I felt myself starting to come.

Fuck. Fuuuuuck.

Jensen yelled, “Will! Hey, I’m here! You in the bathroom?”

Hanna sat up abruptly, eyes wide and wild with apology but it was already too late. I closed my eyes, coming in my hand, on the bare skin of her thigh.

“Just a second,” I wheezed, staring down at where I still pulsed in my grip. I bent over the bed, leaning one hand on the mattress for support. When I looked up at Hanna, she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from where my release landed on her skin, and—fuck—all over her skirt.

“I’m just changing. I’ll be right out,” I managed, my heart feeling like it was about to pound out of my body with the sudden flush of adrenaline that pumped through my blood.

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