Page 139 of Camp Bliss
She opens her mouth to argue but then closes it.
I nod. “Thought so. Greta, honey, all I want now is to hold you. All night, if you’ll let me.”
She snuggles closer to me, and I’m sure that’s the end of it.
But this woman?
She palms my cock with her other hand, turning my breath into a riptide when she strokes up and then down.
“You’ll have to tell me to stop if you want me to stop,” she says, throwing my own words back in my face. But I can only open my mouth. No words marshal in my head, much less on my tongue.
I’m going to come in my sweats and leave her believing I have no staying power at all. I slot my fingers into the thicket of curls at the back of her head, still thinking I can reason with her.
“Greta—” I choke.
“Mmm hmm.That’s what I thought.” And then her hand is in my pants. Wrapped around my cock.
“Guh—” I choke at the same time she says, “Oh,wow!”
My eyes threaten to roll back in their sockets as she slowly glides her grip down along my shaft. I hear her suck in a breath, the sound of discovery. I’m pretty sure I whimper when her fingers travel down to cup my balls.
“Oh,” she murmurs softly, exploring me the same way I did her, and it’s fucking torture. The most erotic torture of my life.
She slides her hand back up to the base, and she lets out a sigh as her soft hand travels the length of me all the way to the tip. My breath halts when she runs her thumb over the crown.
“Mmmm,”she purrs, spreading the wetness there with her thumb. I moan through my clenched teeth.
“Zach, you feelbeautiful,”she whispers. At her words, I’m sure a live oak just sprouted, full grown from my chest.
Greta.
I mean to speak her name aloud, but the sound I make is more of a plea.
The hand that isn’t in my pants lands on my face with a feather touch. I open my eyes to find her gaze wide open, taking me in.
“My God, you’re so beautiful.” She says it with so much wonder, moisture pricks the corners of my eyes.
God Almighty, if she could love me even half as much—
Her hand disappears from my face, interrupting my holy bargain.
“Help me take these off,” she says, tugging on the waistband of my sweats.
I don’t even think. I just obey, yanking the fabric down over my hips.
And then both her hands are on me. Caressing. Stroking. Gripping.
With the hand that’s not tangled in her hair, I grab her hip and squeeze.
She is going to be the death of me.
I clench my jaw, measure my breath, but I’m going to come any second. I’ve wanted her for so long. The twice-daily make-out sessions have taken their toll. It doesn’t matter that I rub one out every time I take a shower. I feel like I’ve been hard for her every damn day since we met.
I swear, I could last longer at sixteen.
She pumps me. From base to tip.
My balls tighten. The base of my spine tingles. I nearly swallow my tongue. A strangled sound fills the room.
