Page 54 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
I took my cock in my hand and rubbed the tip of it over each plump little ass cheek and up and down between them. Fuck, would I have loved to squeeze right in there—but that would have to wait. Instead I wrapped my fingers around my dick and moved it up and down the shaft, over the crown, feeling my lower body heat up.
“Your skin is so perfect,” I whispered, my breath coming fast. “I want to mess it up.”
Her smiled curved higher. “Do it. I want you to.”
With my free hand, I pushed her hair out of the way and ran my palm from her shoulder blade down her back over the curve of her hip. “God, I love your body.” Her skin was pale and soft, untouched even by the sun. I felt like a god that she’d let me sully her this way, that she wanted me to.
“Talk to me,” she breathed. “I can’t see you. Help me imagine it.”
Goddamn, she was awesome. “My cock is so hard,” I told her, working my hand a little quicker. “The muscles in my stomach are flexing. I’m fucking my hand and thinking about you.”
She moaned and arched her back a little, her ass rising between my thighs. “Yes…I can see it.”
“It’s the hand I just had on you. My fingers are wet.”
She moved a hand underneath her and began to touch herself. “Now mine are too.”
“Oh God.” My voice cracked. It was so fucking amazing, I was paralyzed for a moment, and all I wanted to do was watch her. But my dick was aching inside my fist, the tip covered not only with Claire’s arousal but my own. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“And wet,” she whispered, her ass moving up and down as she rubbed herself on her hand. “You make me so wet.”
My arm, giving up on my brain, seemed to move of its accord, jerking hard and fast above her. I fell forward, bracing the other hand on her headboard, my eyes wide and my breathing strained. “Fuck, I’m gonna come so hard.”
“Yes!” she cried out in anguish.
I realized she was bringing herself to climax, and it pushed me over the edge. My orgasm unfurled from bottom to top inside my body, and I felt it build like a volcanic eruption and watched it explode in thick, hot ribbons that flowed like lava over her back. I had no words to describe it, not that I could have talked anyway. All I could do was moan in agony and delight and gratitude and shock that any man should get to do this.
Let alone me.
* * *
I brought up a hand towel I’d found in the hall closet downstairs and wet with warm water. “Don’t move,” I told her.
She stayed on her stomach, her arms folded beneath her chin, while I gently cleaned her up. “Thank you.”
It was insane that she was thanking me. “Believe me, it’s my pleasure.” When I was finished, I kissed her shoulder. “There. All clean.”
She smiled at me over one shoulder. “For now, anyway. Here, give me that.” Sitting up, she took the wet towel from me. “I’ll put it in the laundry.”
Going over to her closet, she slipped into a fluffy floor-length white robe with her initials embroidered on the chest. I laughed as I tugged on my jeans. “That thing is huge.”
“I know, I love it. It’s like being inside a cloud.” She snuggled inside it. “It was a gift from my friend Margot.”
“The one who lives on the farm?” She’d told me about her two closest girlfriends last night. I’d never had friendships like that. I was close to Aaron, but that was different—our bond was in blood, and we’d been born to it. The bond between friends was different. You chose each other.
“Yes. And the one getting married in February.”
“Should I book the date? I could offer you a frequent flier discount or something.” As soon as I said it, I was sorry. One, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and two, I had no idea if I would actually be around to take her. February was more than a month away. I’d learned not to make promises like that.
But Claire got the joke. “Asshole,” she muttered, punching me on the arm as she passed me on the way to the stairs. “I’m never hiring a Hottie again. You can’t get rid of them!”
I smiled as she disappeared down the steps, then looked around for my underwear and shirt. I’d thrown my jeans on before going down to grab a towel, but nothing else. As I dressed, I wondered what I should do today. Go to Aaron and apologize? Did I owe him that? I considered it. Maybe I’d been wrong to lash out. Maybe my anger at him was less about his inability to commit to sobriety and more about his inability to commit to staying with his family. Maybe I was taking out my anger at our parents on him.
Fuck…was that it?
Frowning, I sat on the edge of her bed and pulled on my socks. The truth was, I was much better at perceiving how other people felt than I was at self-reflection. Looking too hard at myself made me uncomfortable, and I was an expert at sweeping shit under the rug.
As I was lacing up my boots, Claire came up the steps. “Hey, are you hungry? I need to keep going on the project list today, but I’m in the mood for some pancakes or something. Want to get breakfast?”
