Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
I have a hand on her hips, and with my other, I dip my fingers in the peanut butter and draw a heart against the nape of her neck.
Her body already starts trembling. A groan wrestles in my throat. Natural instincts are screaming to push into Luna. Fuck her senseless.
At the dive bar, she said she’s not looking for gentle, but for fuck’s sake, she’s a virgin in her mind. She’s more eighteen in her head than twenty-one, and how big of a bastard am I if I just forget about that and go at her like it’s not her first time?
“Donnelly.” Her aching plea quiets my mind.
“Open your mouth,” I murmur.
She obeys, a smile twinkling in her eyes, and I make her suck peanut butter residue off my two fingers. The sensation fists me, squeezes me, strokes me. Her pink lips are suctioning around my index and middle fingers, and I have a handful of her hair.
I pop them out of her mouth, then put them in mine. Her breath shortens while she watches me slide my fingers between my lips. After my hands are clean, I clutch her cheek and dip my head towards her neck. Her breath hitches right as I lick and suck the peanut butter heart off her skin. I edge closer to Luna and feel the heat of her pussy up against my erection.
She shudders, and both of us naturally grind forward. I suck harder.
“Donnelly,” she moans. The tiny whimpering noises she makes, her vibrating thighs—it’s lighting me on fire. Fuck me.
Her neck isn’t the only thing I’m dying to taste. God, give me her pussy. I need it.
I hold the back of her neck, and she’s splatting a dollop of peanut butter on my chest. Her eyes stay pinned to mine while her tongue slowly, agonizingly, trails up my flesh.
This…this is killing me. Under any past circumstance, I probably would’ve already shoved my cock inside of her. The fact that I’m not is the biggest sign that miracles do exist, if I do say so. And the hesitation isn’t even because we’re in her parents’ kitchen.
Though when she’s done licking me, she whispers, “I could meet you back in the guest room.”
“Or we could stay down here.”
Disappointment sinks her shoulders.
I’m not trying to reject her. I squeeze her thighs. “I’m not convinced your dad doesn’t have nanny cams set up to spy on me.”
“Oh. That’s a real possibility,” she says quietly. “But you’d stay here?”
“I’m not rushing to leave,” I breathe.
Her eyes flit around me, and she bites the corner of her lip. “What would you do to OG Luna right now?”
I’d already be fucking you. Our breaths sound in sync, timed, like we’re already making love against the cupboards. I slip my hands back up her thighs, feeling her cotton panties. “I’ll show you.” I pull her off the counter, and her smile explodes as I carry her, as her legs wrap around me.
When I reach the breakfast table, I drop her feet to the floor and weld her back to my chest. I walk her closer to the table. She’s breathing incredibly hard, and I whisper in her ear, “You can say stop.”
“I don’t want it to stop.”
Yeah. “We have that in common.” I take her hands in mine and outstretch her arms across the surface of the table. I’m bent over her thin body, her ass digging into my cock, and I keep hold of her hands for a stationary, sweltering moment. I’m burning the fuck up, especially as she breathes like we’re already having sex.
Jesus.
My lips are against her ear again. “You feel how hard I am?”
“Uh-huh,” she rasps.
“I’m only hard like this for you, because of you,” I breathe. “You’ve been bad, you know why?”
She squirms, more so in pleasure. “Why?”
“You missed your daily fucking.” I let go of one hand and lift her black dress, exposing her ass. I hook my finger through the side of her bright yellow thong and tug it upward. She writhes against the table, against my cock, and I rock forward, the fabric of my pants separating me from the bigger desire. Her wet, soaked pussy, that warmth, fuck.
“Wha-what happens,” she stammers, out of breath, “if I miss it?”
I slide my leg between her thighs, breaking her apart, and my lips find her ear. “Then we make it up during your nightly fucking.” When she turns her head, I kiss her deeper, and my pulse runs so hot. In raw instinct, I arch into Luna. She pulls away from my lips to catch her breath.
Her body tries to skate forward on the table with my thrusts, but I hold her hands again. Her dress is bunched up around her waist, and her bare ass with the thong is teasing the fuck out of me. I want skin-on-skin. To feel her heat.