Oli
She tastes of sugar and sin. I’m treading in dangerous waters, and yet I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. I’m too far away from shore as my tongue runs down her chest.
I lift her under her arms and lie her on the bed. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked gently, but tonight I’ll try my hardest for you,” I say, because a part of me hopes she’ll cower and realize she’s making a mistake. It shouldn’t be me.
A nervous laugh escapes her lips. “Is that another warning? I told you I feel safe,” she says firmly, her voice too filled with lust to be taken very seriously.
I can’t blame her because that same need pulses through me, even though a nagging feeling sits on my chest, like I’m taking something that isn’t mine. I don’t want to hurt her or me. I sure as hell don’t want to cause trouble between her and Flynn, but my resolve has diminished, and like a moth to a flame, I’m consumed by her.
As my tongue runs over her pert nipple, it stands to attention. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want her now with her dark hair messy and splayed on the bed, her green eyes filled with heat so alluring. She’s quite the temptress, and she isn’t even trying.
My tongue plays with the bud of her nipple as she runs her fingers through my hair. She smells like fresh flowers on a spring day, refreshing, untainted, in need of love. My lips press against her other nipple, and she murmurs something unintelligible and moans, arching her back off the bed.
“That feels so good,” she rasps. Her heated voice does things to my insides. I want to make her feel passion that she’s never felt before. I want her to come completely undone because of me, for me. I’ve noticed over the years she has a wall erected around her not with my sister but with other people, especially those of the opposite sex, and although I don’t know what it’s about, it makes me feel special knowing she trusts me enough, that she cares about me enough, to want to give this precious gift to me.
“Good, baby, I want to make this feel good for you.” My mouth hovers over her delectable nipple as my tongue draws circles around it, making her buck beneath me.
“Ah!” she cries out, pressing her wet pussy into me.
“Fuck, I can feel how wet you are through my jeans,” I hiss.
“We better do something about those jeans then.” She grins sexily, her eyes heavy-lidded and warm. She gets to work on the button and zipper, then runs her hands over my ass.
“Damn, this is one fine ass.” She giggles.
“You like my butt, huh?” I reach down to squeeze hers. “Yours is sexier than hell. Fuck, what I wouldn’t do to come inside it,” I growl, forgetting myself. She’s a virgin; her virgin ears don’t need to hear my fantasies about taking her from behind. At least not yet.
Her throat bobs. I’ve made her nervous.
“Don’t freeze up on me, baby. I’m not going there tonight. Like I said, I want to make this good for you. Tonight is all about you.”
One Timer With A Wingman by R.C. Stephens
