Page 34 of Charmed By the Next-Door Neighbor
"Okay?" He lets out a rough laugh. "Claire, I'm about to lose my goddamn mind."
"Good," I breathe, and then I roll my hips.
His head falls back against the seat and his grip on my hips tightens.
"Jesus Christ."
The rain is pounding on the roof now, so loud it drowns out everything else. We're in our own little world. Just us and the darkness and the heat building between us.
I can feel how wet I am. How soaked my underwear is. The fabric is clinging to me and I know he can probably feel it too through his jeans.
The thought should mortify me.
Instead it makes me wetter.
"I want to see you," I whisper.
His eyes snap open. "What?"
"Your—" I can't say it. Can't make myself say the word even though we're past the point of pretending this isn't happening. "I want to see."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to," I interrupt. "Please. I've been thinking about it. About you. About what you look like and—"
I'm rambling again but I can't stop, and his hands are moving from my hips to cup my face, tilting my head down so I'm looking right at him.
"You've been thinking about my cock?" he asks, and the bluntness of it catches me off guard.
I nod.
"Say it."
"I've been thinking about your cock," I whisper.
He makes a sound low in his throat that goes straight between my legs.
"You want to see it?"
"Yes."
"Touch it?"
"Yes."
"Suck it?"
Oh my god.
"Yes," I breathe. "Yes, please, I want—"
He kisses me. His tongue slides into my mouth and I moan against his lips, my hands fisting in his shirt. I grind down against him and he groans into my mouth, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me harder against the ridge of his cock.
Even through our clothes, it's almost too much.
The friction is perfect and terrible and not nearly enough.
I break the kiss, panting, and fumble for his belt.
