18. Pink

Pink

M y entire body was on fire. A raging inferno threatening to break free at any second and engulf anything—or anyone—in its path.

Starting with my throbbing dick.

The first thing I noticed before I even opened my eyes was her smell. The delicious swirl of my cinnamon clove soap and her natural, fruity fragrance reminded me of strawberries dipped in cream—not the stuff that came in a can, either.

The second was the mass of thick curls spread across my chest. I resisted the urge to thread my fingers through the strands that still hadn’t finished drying.

We’d made it through the first movie okay. Well, Nessa had at least. I’d watched most of it through the fabric of a throw pillow—horror movies had never been my thing. She’d passed out on my shoulder halfway through the second one. I hadn’t had the heart to wake her, especially when a soft snore had rumbled out of her nose. I’d wondered if other guys got hard when their fake girlfriends started snoring on top of them.

Eventually, I’d given into the fatigue and fallen asleep, too. Not a catnap either, but a deep, languid slumber. It was rare for me to sleep that hard on my own, let alone next to another person.

At some point, we must have sunk down into the cushions. That was how I’d woken up, with me lying flat on my back and her tucked into my side, leg slung across my lap like a seatbelt.

Nessa was a ride I might never survive.

But what a way to go.

A feral groan fell from my lips when she twisted. Her bare, fleshy thigh grazed my cock, reminding me that she was still naked under my sweatshirt. We were approaching dangerous territory, the great unknown beyond the end of the rainbow, which made Nessa’s bare pussy the pot of gold just out of reach.

Literally. My hand was trapped between our bodies, inches from the hem of her sweatshirt.

She moved again, this time grinding her hips against my thigh. Fuck me. Was she awake? Was she dreaming? More importantly, was she dreaming about me? Wet heat seeped through the thin material of my sweatpants with each roll of her hips.

“ Angel .” I barely recognized the rasp of my voice. “You’ve got to wake up.”

“Mm,” she mumbled into my chest.

The hand snaked around my neck drifted slowly—painfully so—down my chest. My hips surged upward, nearly shooting off the couch, when a nail scraped over my nipple. If she wanted to hurl the rule book into the fire and let me fuck her through the couch, all she had to do was say so, but we weren’t taking this any further without her consent—a full, unwavering, and enthusiastic yes. Anything less wouldn’t do.

“Nessa, stop.” She whined when I palmed her ass through the sweatshirt, stilling her movement. Me too, angel .

She tilted her head back, blinking up at me through half-lidded eyes, swollen with sleep. There was something else there, too—lust. Unfiltered, vulnerable need.

“You don’t want to?” she asked.

Was that even a question? “Of course I do.” I brushed a wet strand of hair away from her forehead. “But I need to know where your head is. Do you want this?”

Do you want me?

The unspoken words hung between us. She bit her lip, hesitating for about zero point two seconds before lifting herself up, settling a knee on either side of my waist, and lowering herself down onto my cotton-covered cock.

“Holy fucking shit, Nessa.”

An answer to my question would have been too easy, and Nessa—my angel—was anything but. I settled my hands on her thighs, halting the motion of her hips. When my thumbs dug into her creamy flesh, inching closer to her dripping cunt, she sat back.

“Ah, ah. You know the rules.” She laced her fingers through mine and pressed our hands to the armrest behind my head. “No kissing, no sex.”

That felt more like a technicality at this point. My throbbing tip was notched between her pussy lips, separated only by a thin layer of fabric. If we were naked, she would have already been impaled on my cock.

“ Angel .” I groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

“No touching or I stop.” She punctuated her order with another swivel of her hips. “Got it?”

I grunted my approval.

And then, as if I weren’t already dangerously close to coming in my pants—something I hadn’t done since I was thirteen—she leaned forward and whispered, “ Good boy .”

She may as well have swallowed me down the back of her throat—the effect would have been the same. My cock jerked, no doubt staining the inside of my sweats with precum. It looked like I would be doing another load of laundry tonight, when all I really wanted was to dump my load into Nessa.

But I was a good boy— Nessa’s good boy —so I would take what she was willing to give, even if it meant keeping my hands to myself while she rode us both to ecstasy.

I dug my fingers into the couch. My heart raced, pulsing in time with every smooth glide of her pussy—back and forth, up and down—over my cock. I couldn’t touch her, could barely see her save for the light of the dying fire reflecting off her curls.

“Take this off,” she said, toying with the hem of my T-shirt. “I want to feel you.” She didn’t have to tell me twice. I leaned forward and removed my shirt, tossing it to the side.

My abs involuntarily contracted when her icy hands came back down on my chest, using it as leverage for her ride. They were the only cold part of her. The rest of her was red-hot. Molten, liquid fire.

She took her time, alternating between deep, languid strokes and short bursts of grinding her pubic bone down on mine. I let her take the lead, matching her every bump and grind with one of my own. It wasn’t long before she increased our pace, barreling us both closer toward the explosion of a millennium. Something told me there would be no coming back from this one.

Talk about a big bang.

“Does that feel good?”

She hummed her pleasure.

“Tell me how it feels, Nessa.” I sucked in a breath when her nails dug into my chest.

“So good.” She moaned.

“Look at you. So fucking sexy, riding my cock.”

“Fuck, Jared.”

Her emerald eyes glowed with desire as her hips rolled over me, pushing and dragging, desperate for my cock to dig deeper into her pussy.

“That’s it, baby.” I met her thrust for thrust, arching my hips. “It’s all for you. Use me. Make yourself come.”

Her breathing faltered. I could tell she was getting close. Hell, I was ready to burst and I hadn’t even touched her. Oh god, I want to touch her. We had been edging each other for weeks now—every touch, every glance, every verbal sparring match, it had all led to this. Just one touch, that was all it would take to set us both off.

“Let me touch you, baby. Please. ” I wasn’t above begging, not when we were both hovering so close to the edge.

She whimpered.

“I promise, angel, it’s going to feel so good when come on my cock. Let me help get you there.”

“No kissing.”

I nodded vigorously. “Whatever you want. Just say the word.”

Her teeth bit down onto her lower lip. She was trying to resist, trying to maintain some semblance of control and order, anything to keep up the wall she had erected between us months ago that was quickly crumbling, brick by metaphorical brick.

“Let me in, angel. What do you need?”

She fell forward, crushing her chest to mine. “I need you to touch me.” A mew escaped her throat. “Make me come, Jared.”

I sprang into action.

Nessa gasped when I sat up on the couch, taking her with me. I wrapped one arm around her waist, anchoring her to my body, and reached between us with the other, homing in on her greedy pussy. We both groaned when my fingers met the slick heat between her thighs.

“ Fuck , you’re drenched.” I dragged a finger through her juices and swirled them around her swollen clit. “Is this wet pussy all for me?”

She covered my hand with hers. “Yes.”

“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?”

“ Yessss. ”

I rocked my hips in time with hers, driving my cock against her core while fingering her clit. Sweat dripped down my face, every muscle in my body tightening—my core was working overtime. Riding Nessa raw was better than any workout I’d ever had.

“Jared, I—” She cut herself off with another groan.

“I know, angel.”

“I need to come.”

“I’ve got you.”

While one hand played her clit like a base, the other slipped under her sweatshirt, circling around to cup her heavy breast. Good boys played according to the rules . . . but they also knew when to bend them. Which was why in the next minute, I pinched her nipple, leaned forward, and bit down through the heavy cotton. She hadn’t said anything about biting. Not today, at least.

She came with my name on her lips and her hands clutching the back of my head, holding me to her tits while I grunted out my release.

“I thought we talked about biting,” she said between shallow breaths. She unwound her arms, releasing my head from her pillowy chest. Her body shook again when I swirled my fingers through her pussy once, twice, and a third time before bringing them to my lips and sucking them clean.

“Mm,” I said, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

She blinked back at me, dazed.

And maybe a little confused.

Eventually, she climbed off my lap. A slow smile crept across my face when she teetered on unsteady legs like a baby deer. My face fell not ten seconds later when she darted down the hallway, making a beeline for the washer and dryer.

Here I was, covered in both of our cum and still trying to catch my breath, while she ran a fucking marathon down the hall.

“Are you okay?”

“I should go.”

I leapt to my feet when she stumbled over her words and then nearly fell on my face when I caught the curve of her bare ass peeking out from beneath the sweatshirt.

Fuck, she looks good with my name on her back.

She dressed quickly, shimmying her bare, luscious ass into her jeans, all without removing my sweatshirt. As far as I was concerned, it was her sweatshirt now. I would never be able to look at it again without seeing her tits bouncing beneath the fabric as she rode my cock.

“Angel, just let me clean myself up and we can talk.”

Her eyes shot down to the wet spot staining my pants.

“Nessa?”

She blinked. “This was a mistake. I’m just—” Her eyes met mine. “I’m sorry.”

She tore out of the room after that, leaving her shirt and panties behind in the dryer.

Great.

This wasn’t how I had imagined tonight ending—head in my hands, jizz in my joggers—but it was a start. A sticky one, but still.

Nessa could run all she wanted, so long as she knew that I would chase her. To the ends of the Earth. I would give her a day or two to collect her thoughts, but after that, she was mine.

She might not have realized it yet, but I was in this thing for the long haul. We’d crossed the point of no return the moment she’d kissed me in the street; my name on her lips while she came only sweetened the deal. Tonight hadn’t been some aberration or itch needing to be scratched. There was no way I was willing to give up on her—on us—now, no matter how long it took to convince her.

And little did she know, but I could be very, very persuasive.