Page 38 of Hurt Me Not
Pearl
Why don’t you come and see for yourself?
Her flirtatiousness had desire coiling in my belly. I wanted to prove to her exactly how serious I’d been about showing up at her house the other night.
So, deciding to act on it instead of texting her back, I entered her apartment building and climbed up the steps. When I finally reached her door, I didn’t hesitate to knock.
There were a few moments of silence before I heard her shuffling on the other side of the door. Then it swung open.
She had changed into a loose tank top—with no bra—and shorts so tiny her ass cheeks were probably hanging out.
Delicious.The peaks of her nipples were pushing through the thin fabric, and I had trouble keeping my hands to myself.
Pushing her into the apartment, I grabbed the hand that was on the doorknob and locked the door behind me. Her eyes were trained on me the entire time, her breath catching as we touched.
“That was fast,” she whispered.
“Are you giving up already?” I asked. “You told me to come see, but are you also going to ask me to take you home?”
She swallowed, and I watched, mesmerized, as the column of her throat tensed. My hand moved there on its own, and my fingers started to trail down the sensitive part of her neck to herchest. I couldn’t stop myself from tracing her nipple through her shirt.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Specifics,” I reminded. “Yes, what?”
“Take me home, Emerson,” she said, her breath quickening. “Fuck me. Here or there, I don’t care, as long as you put your hands on me again.”
I backed her up, her back hitting the small kitchen island.
“Are you admitting you can’t make yourself come without me?”
Her eyes searched my face, but her answer took too long. I pulled her shirt down, exposing her perfect bare breasts to me, and she let out a gasp as I leaned down and licked up her neck to her ear.
She squirmed against me. Her hands fisted my shirt and pulled me closer.
“Beg me.”
“Please,” she panted. “Please fuck me, Emerson.”
I trailed open-mouthed kisses on her skin. My perfect little whore arched into me as I got to her chest, and just to indulge myself, I pulled her hard nipple into my mouth, running my tongue around the rosy bud.
“Oh, fuck.”
My hand trailed up her leg until I got to her cunt, cupping it through her thin shorts. She jerked against me, searching for friction.
I sucked and nibbled on her nipple, finally forcing myself away as her hands buried themselves in my hair. Our faces were close, her pants wafting across my face.
Teasingly, I nipped her bottom lip.
“Get your stuff.” My voice came out huskier than I intended. Her eyes flashed up to mine.
“What? You’re stopping?” she asked, her tone rising.
I couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across my lips.
“It’s calleddelayed gratification,” I said and leaned toward her ear, nipping the lobe. “And brats who don’t listen don’t get fucked.”
I pulled away and drank in the sight. Red and panting desire clear in her eyes. Nipple shiny and wet from my mouth and begging for more. Shorts pushed up so I could just make out the silhouette of her cunt.
