Growing and Kissing (20 page)

The coarseness of it made me catch my breath...but I wasn’t ready for how it made the black heat rise up from my groin, spreading and building. “Yes,” I managed, almost a whimper.

He growled again and suddenly rolled us over so that I was on top. My hair flew out in a cloud and my legs slid around him, my knees on the cool ground. His groin pressed up against me, both legs between mine, now, and I could feel his cock even more clearly, throbbing against my inner thigh. I realized with a lurch that I was straddling him and I lifted myself to slow things down just a little.

That’s when his hands clamped down on the cheeks of my ass, pulling me down on him. The softness of my groin ground against his cock and both of us groaned. Even through our clothes, I could feel my soft lips pressing against that heavy, thick hardness and, as he dug his fingers hard into my ass and dragged me up and down a little, I felt myself opening, moistening. I panted and tried to move myself, but his hands were too strong, his fingers like rock through the thin denim. He was in control. He dragged me up and down his length again and pleasure rippled outward from the contact, making me buck and wriggle.

I realized my hands were free and grabbed for his shoulders, running my fingers over the muscles I’d gazed at for so long. He was solid and heavy, the feel of him addictive under my palms, the sense of raw power that throbbed from him overwhelming.

He rolled us again, slamming me down on my back in the dirt. I could feel damp earth on my knees where they’d pressed into the ground and I knew my pink top was probably the same. We were getting filthy and I didn’t care, the heat howling inside me, now, demanding release. We stared into each other’s eyes again….

And then he grabbed the spaghetti strap of my top and the strap of my bra in his fist and my stomach seemed to slam down into my shoes.
Oh my God he’s going to—

There was a ripping sound as threads gave way and suddenly one of my breasts was bared, the nipple throbbing at its sudden exposure. Sean stared down at it...and I saw the animal lust in his eyes. I groaned as his hand lifted and then squeezed the soft flesh, his thumb caressing the nipple. Then his mouth was on me, his tongue bathing my skin and swirling around the stiffening peak. My hands were still free but I couldn’t move them: the sensations were too much. My knuckles rubbed against the cool ground and my fingers spread and strained as his tongue darted around the base of my nipple. When he took it lightly between his teeth, I began to pant and press my groin up towards him, swirling my hips. The pleasure was radiating out from where his mouth touched me in quick little earthquakes that I felt all the way to my fingertips and toes, and every shudder raised the heat inside me another notch.

He lifted his mouth from me. The breeze wafted over my slickened flesh and I gasped. Then his thumb was rubbing across my hard nipple again, making me groan and arch my back. “I’ve been wanting to see these since the day I first saw you,” he told me. The words were like burning hot harpoons, digging into my mind, and dragging me down into the dark heat below. “All the time I’ve been with you, I’ve wanted to do
this.”
And he yanked the other strap, snapping the top and bra on that side, too, and baring me completely.

I cried out as his mouth found my other breast, tossing my head on the ground, hair flying. Then he lifted his head again and both hands went to my breasts, squeezing and rubbing them in a slow rhythm. “Best I’ve ever seen,” he growled down at me. He squeezed a little harder and I tipped my head back, eyes screwed closed and chin tilted up towards the sky. I couldn’t believe we were doing this outdoors, where some neighbor might see us. But as his thumbs worked at my aching buds, I forgot even that, my mind carried along on a current of pleasure that was moving faster and faster and leading inexorably
down.

He leaned down and kissed me again. The first time, the kiss had gotten more and more out of control, testing me. This time, it got steadily slower and more deliberate. I was kissing him back as hard as he was kissing me, twisting and moving, exploring his lips and tongue with my own. Every time I brushed the tip of my tongue against his or nipped at his lips with my teeth, he responded: a groan, a shifting of his body atop mine, a tensing of his massive chest. I’d never had that before with a man, never had that feeling of power. The realization that he wanted me that much was intoxicating.

Sean broke the kiss but kept his mouth very close to mine. He slid one hand down my body: over my ruined top, down to the bare skin where the fabric had ridden up over my stomach. He brushed his palm lightly over that place, just barely making contact, and I could feel every microscopic hair standing to attention. I groaned and arched my back again, wanting him closer, firmer, harder. I wanted him so much, I forgot to be embarrassed at how I was responding.

I felt his palm rotate until his fingers were pointing towards my feet. Then the hand slid further down, down to the frayed edge of my shorts. I kept my eyes closed but drew in a slow, fractured breath as the tips of his fingers played with the denim and then with the waistband of my panties. I could feel those blue eyes blazing down on me, savoring my anticipation. The tips of his fingers slipped under my shorts and lifted the waistband of my panties and I gasped as the thin fabric stretched away from my body...God, I could feel how wet I was.

“I’ve been thinking about this, too,” he said, his voice a whisper, the words felt as much as heard, tiny kisses as our mouths stroked together. “Thinking about how you’d feel. Whether you’d be wet for me. Are you wet for me, Louise?”

I couldn’t answer. The heat was roaring in my ears now, furnace-hot. The feel of his heavy body on mine, the way he was touching me, the sound of his voice...it was all rushing me towards a climax and the thought I might actually come, right here, outside, left me reeling. His fingers slid lower and then they were caressing the soft curls of hair and—
God!—
the tips of them were sliding over the lips of my sex, already sticky with my juices—

My eyes flew open and I was looking up into cobalt-blue pools that blazed like fire. “You are, Louise. You’re wet for me.” His hand moved lower, knuckles rasping against my panties, and I moaned and thrashed in anticipation, feeling myself approaching my peak. Two fingers stroked over the line that separated my lips and I cried out and rolled my hips. Then the fingers were spearing up into me, spreading me. “Jesus, you’re soaking,” he told me, and the fierce heat grew even stronger, pushing me towards the edge. The fingers slid deeper. Second knuckle. Third. Hooking inside me and rubbing that secret place—

My eyes closed again and my arms suddenly locked around his shoulders as the climax hit me. I rocked against him, grinding my groin into his hand. His thumb brushed across my clit and I trembled and shouted a wordless cry of pleasure. My knees came up, my sneakers dragging across the dirt, and I shuddered and shuddered against him.

And then everything went wrong.

Sean

I felt her spasm and tremble around my buried fingers, wet and hot and perfect. As she finally relaxed against me, I drew my fingers from her. God, she was so soft there, the hair like silk. I popped the button of her shorts and put both hands on the waistband: one good tug and I’d have them down over her hips and off, her panties, too. And then I’d finally get my first glimpse of what she looked like there. My imagination had been going crazy for months.

I’d dreamed of her a thousand different ways: light pink lips and dark pink, hair every shade from the copper on her head to the brown of her eyebrows, all of it framed by that soft, pale skin. A thousand ways...and all of them perfect. I was going to drag those shorts off her—tear them off, if I had to—and then I was going to bury myself in that lush body, feel that heat around my aching cock. I wanted to see her gasp and pant and dig her nails into my back as I pounded her bare ass into the dirt.

She opened her eyes and stared up at me, the liquid green of a forest clearing. So innocent.

I froze.

“What?” she asked, sounding worried. The sound of her voice made it even worse: soft and sweet and almost apologetic. She was worried
she’d
done something wrong.

I sat slowly back on my heels, looking at what I’d done to her with fresh eyes: her pale skin smudged with mud, her hair mussed, her top and bra hanging in shreds, breasts still shining from my mouth.

I’d been about to not just fuck her but
pound
her, down here in the dirt, getting her filthy, tearing her clothes...as if by doing that I could somehow bring her down to my level. Part of me had always been turned on by the gulf between us: the thought of taking someone so pure and leading them down into dark, moaning pleasure. But now that I saw what I was doing….

I couldn’t do it. The only thing stronger than my need to fuck her was my need to protect her. It was almost as if I was seeing myself through someone else’s eyes. I didn’t
want
a guy like me fucking her.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, getting to my feet.

“W—
what?!”
She half-sat up, then felt her ruined top and bra fall around her waist and tried to cover herself. Suddenly, it hit home that she was outside and she looked around fearfully, clutching the rags to her breasts. “
What?
What are you—”

I shook my head helplessly. And saw the tears well up in her eyes.
Ah, shit!

She jumped to her feet, glancing down disbelievingly at her ruined clothes and dirt-smudged body. “Don’t—”—her breathing hitched—”don’t you...want me?”

Part of me died inside. This was destroying her and it was all my fault. “Yeah. Jesus,
yeah!
But...this is wrong. You can’t get tangled up in my life.”

She had her arms crossed over her breasts, now, holding the shreds of white and pink fabric against her. Tears were spilling down her cheeks. “I already
am!”

I shook my head fiercely. I hated to see her cry but with every tear I was more sure. “You need a good fucking man,” I snapped. “Not me.” And I marched into the house, straight through it and down to the road, not stopping until I reached my car. I walked as fast as I could, but I still couldn’t outrun the choking, helpless sob behind me as she really started to cry.

In the Mustang, I started the engine and then pounded my fist on the dash so hard the plastic cracked.
Fuck!
I wasn’t mad at myself for stopping. I’d done the right thing. I was mad at myself for letting it go so far.

I slammed the car into gear and roared off down the street. No matter how hard it was, I had to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

Louise

I heard the Mustang roar off down the street and that gave me the confidence to hurry inside the house. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted him to see me again, period.

I was a mess. There was grass in my hair and mud on my knees and calves. My top and bra were ruined and filthy with dirt where we’d rolled around. But the worst damage wasn’t visible.

What the fuck had just happened? After weeks—
months—
of us both lusting after each other, suddenly he’d decided it couldn’t work? And he’d waited until he had me half-naked and panting under him, still flushed from the freaking orgasm?