Page 64 of Aftershock
Forever.
“Let me tell you a secret.” I twist her panties in my palm. Pull them tight between her pussy lips, making her shudder. “I didn’tjustmiss you.”
“What?” Her free hand is in my hair, yanking at the roots.
That pain, delivered by her, will be my undoing.
“I was starving…”
While I keep grinding into her, I tug even harder on her underwear.
“…fucking needing…”
I crumple the fabric in my hand, and the soft graze of my knuckles against her bare cunt pulls the sweetest moan from her.
“…you.”
Releasing her throat, I sink my teeth into her neck as I tear her panties off before pocketing them.
“Fuck.” She lets out a broken cry.
I trail my mouth higher, kissing a path along her jaw. “Why didn’t you want me to walk you home?” Instead of giving her what she needs, I return my hand to her pussy and stroke her softly. I need my answers. “It’s late. It isn’t safe.”
“Grown… I’m a grown woman. And.” Her hand tightens in my hair, yanking my head back so that her blue eyes bore into me. “Stop doing that. It’s too light. I need you, and you’re holding back.”
A small smirk stretches my lips. It doesn’t last long.
Because she doesn’t wait for me to give her what she needs. She forces me to do it by pumping my dick over my jeans like she did earlier. Gripping and releasing, going fast, then slow and fast again.
Feels so good, and…
The way Lilith’s probing gaze locks onto me, it’s like she’s cataloging my reactions. Like she hasn’t done this before.
Her hand, now that I pay attention, is somewhat unsure. It’s like she’s guided by instinct, learning what does it for me. What makes me jerk, grunt, and breathe harder.
Not that it dulls the pleasure in the slightest.
It’s just that being her first is a mind-fuck. The kind that floods my body with a feral, possessive energy I never felt until her.
“You’ve never been with a man.” With my forehead pressed to hers, I take in her blown pupils, the darkening of her cheeks. “Have you?”
She doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t have to.
The truth is reflected in her insecure gaze.
She worries I might hate it.
I could never. In fact, I get off on it, on the filthy images poisoning my head.
Lilith crying out my name when I break through that barrier. Her blood on my cock. The tight fit and how I’ll fuck her through the pain and turn her into a moaning, trembling mess.
I want that.
“Tell me,” I growl, growing impatient. I need her to say it. Need to see her lips shape around the words. “Tell. Me.”
She gives me nothing.
The sick part of me wonders whether I could fuck the answer out of her. If when I shove her jeans down, turn her around, and rail her up against the wall, the confession will spill out of her mouth.
