Page 83 of The Downside of Love
Reaching behind her back, she unhooks her bra while placing another kiss on my lips. Her angry energy turns sensual, breaking my willpower with each rock of her hips.
With purpose, Rory reaches her hands up to the straps of her red bra and deliberately lowers the fabric down her arms until the cups are barely pressed against her breasts.
I clear my throat, trying to find my voice. “Rory.”
She tosses the bra to the side, and for the love of God, I can’t look away. My eyes go straight to her chest, to her pert tits. Full, but not too big, puckered nipples begging for my tongue.
Shit.
My wall crumbles, brick by brick, my will snapping when she shifts on my lap again, her nipples grazing the T-shirt stretching across my chest.
“Touch me, Stryder.”
I bite my bottom lip, my hands starting to move up her ribs, my thumbs curling right below her breasts.
“This is us.” She presses a kiss against the corner of my mouth. “This is between you and me only.” Another kiss to my jaw. “I want you.” Kiss to my chin. “I want you inside me.” Kiss on my lips where her tongue strokes across the seal of my mouth, opening my lips.
My thumbs inch up, the heaviness of her breasts centimeters away.
Moving her mouth over mine, she continues to pry my mouth open, greedy with her kisses, her hands gripping the back of my neck, pulling on the strands of my hair. She’s testing me, she’s cracking me, and she’s shooting a tingling sensation up the length of my back with every swipe of her tongue.
Grinding on my lap, my cock rock-hard, she moans, her movement causing the tips of my thumbs to touch the bottom of her breasts.
Fuck.
She moans again, repeating the motion, that brief pass of my thumb setting her on fire. Her hips move faster, her mouth becomes more greedy, her fingers dig into my scalp right before one of her hands moves to mine. Covering the back of it, she lifts it to one of her breasts and I take her into my palm.
Squeeze.
Moan.
Squeeze.
Head falls back.
Squeeze.
Cock presses into the zipper of my pants.
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
“Oh God,” she moans, mouth parted, wonder in her eyes, a catch in her breath, a grind of her hips. “Please,” she whispers, her voice pleading. “I’m so close. I’m throbbing for you, Stryder. I don’t want to come again unless you’re inside me. Please.”
I can’t go another day, another fucking minute with Rory begging me to be inside her. I need to feel it. I need to know that the love I have for this woman defeats the betrayal of my best friend.
Because with Rory ready to split apart on my lap, she’s clouding my brain, fogging it up with lust, with this unmistakable passion I have for her. A haze falls over my thoughts, and the only thing on my mind is Rory and the way her body feels captured by mine.
“Take me, Stryder,” she whispers.
Forehead pressed against hers, eyes squeezed shut, my heart opens up to her, and I snap.
A guttural sound floats out of me from the pit of my stomach as I stand, her little body wrapped around mine, clinging, not wanting to let go.
In three strides I make it to her bed, where I set her down and keep my eyes trained on her as I reach behind me and yank off my shirt, pulling it over my chest. Her face relaxes, her eyelashes flutter, inky black and thick, enticing me to come closer.
While I take off my belt, I take every last inch of her in from her slender yet toned shoulders, to her perfect tits, round with hardened nipples, to her flat stomach, and red lace panties that reveal almost everything through the thin lace.
I release my belt and say, “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Rory.”
