Her lids grow heavy, her heated gaze searing every place they trace over. Flurries of snow whip around the Bronco, blanketing us. We’re stuck here for at least a few more hours until they clear the streets. I know what she wants, I want it too — want her too.
I nod my chin to the passenger’s seat. “Give me a second.”
She climbs over, and I manage to get my six-two frame in the back. By the time I get the seats down, I’m out of breath. I lean back regarding her as I tilt my head forward and undo my belt. Her mouth slackens, wet with desire as she watches me.
“I know what I want, Snowflake, do you?” I ask.
Sparks crack and burn through my body when she lowers her chin, crawling over like a tiger on a hunt. She covers my hand with one of hers, using the other to undo my zipper. My dick is already needy for her, throbbing under my boxers and leaking for her. The cooler air against the head of my member sends a chill up my spine. Then, she opens her mouth, the contrasting heat of it as she hovers over me causes goosebumps to spread all up my arms and legs.
“Fuck, Snowflake,” I grit, grabbing a fistful of her hair but letting her continue her torture. Her eyes glimmer as she watches, enjoying every bit of power she has over me. Finally, she closes her mouth and I let my head fall back with a groan. She feels so fucking good with her hot, fleshy mouth on me. I work my hips back and forth as she moves up and down. Her tongue swirls when she reaches the top, stroking my shaft as she descends.
I flex my hands against the side of her head and try not to fuck her pretty little face. This is as much for her as it is for me. I want her to enjoy having me in her mouth for as long as she’ll let me. My mind blurs as I watch her. I’m hypnotized by the way she feels; her sweet perfume floods my senses and overwhelms me. I can’t take it anymore. I need to touch her, to feel her cling to me as I set myself inside her.
“Come here,” I say, pulling her up to my chest and sucking her tongue into my mouth. She moans, and I swallow it greedily. My hands drift over the toned planes of her body. I squeeze the flesh of her thickness, toy with the button of her jeans. She brings her knees up to my sides, taking matters into her own hands.
For her to get out of them, she has to scoot forward so her sweet sex is in my face. When she gets them off, I pull her over my mouth, sucking her center through her soaked panty. She grinds on my tongue, tossing her head back in ecstasy. She’s so beautiful when she’s free like this. How can I get her to be this comfortable with me all the time?
My heartbeat stutters when I realize.
I want Krystal to be around me all the time.
I’ve wanted her all the fucking time since I laid eyes on her.
I shift the fabric separating us to the side, taste her wetness before dragging a slow trail over the sensitive button of nerves at the apex of her thighs. I pay special attention to her clit, circling it and flicking it side to side in my mouth. Her legs tighten around my face until it feels like all the blood in my body is trapped in my head.
Her back arches as she reels a string of curses through gritted teeth. I stick one finger, then another, in her tightness and do the come-hither motion that sends her over the edge. Her climax is so intense, I feel it in my body. Heat blooms at the base of my spine and spreads through my core. My fist tightens around the base of my dick to stop myself from making a mess.
“Fuck, Nick,” she sighs, kissing me delicately as she slides down my body.
I hold her against me. “I don’t have a condom,” I say, chuckling when she deflates.
The view out the window is completely obscured by the storm outside — fogged up from our activities. My chest heaves as I catch my breath, the dry air around us burning my nose with each deep inhale. We lay on the firm seats, naked from the bottom down, and caressing each other in silence.
The darkness of night is impatient to take over, overwhelming the Bay at four-thirty. The wind doesn’t let up, howling a winter’s song that the evergreens dance to. Satisfaction wraps us in a tight cocoon. It strikes me again that I’m in the middle of a snowstorm on the side of a hill, but I wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else. As long as she’s here in my arms, I’m good where I’m at. A contented smile floats to my lips when I feel her go slack, hear her soft snores.
I’m so fucking screwed.
The peace of being with her in this moment and the anxiety behind having to say goodbye at the end of the week war in my heart. Whatever happens, I won’t regret this, so I let the feelings fade and allow myself to drift to sleep.
Krystal
Nick’s heavy arm is strewn across my body. The room is pitch black as my eyes flutter open, lashes heavy with exhaustion. My throat is dry — rough like I’ve been screaming. The fog of inertia begins to clear, and it all comes flooding back to me.
Climbing into the back seat.
My knees raw from pressing into the leather seats of the Bronco.
Waking up hours later to the engine of a snowplow riding by.
We were supposed to attend the Festival of Lights, but it was postponed because of the storm. We ate dinner with the group before falling into bed together and then…the screaming.
I squint from the brightness of my phone as I check the time. It’s only three in the morning. The back of my throat itches, and I feel an incoming coughing fit. Slowly, I peel Nick’s arm off my naked belly, rustle around the piles of discarded clothes until I can piece together something decent.
A sigh of relief escapes me when I see the drink dispenser near the check-in desk filled with water. Slices of lemon float around as my cup fills. The cool liquid is a salve on my mouth and throat. I’m not surprised at all that I’m dehydrated. I use myfree hand to massage the back of my neck as I play the night’s activities on a loop in my mind.
How did I go from not wanting men to even look my way to craving one so badly it gives me chills? I turn the cup up and gulp down the rest of the water, toss it in the nearby waste basket, and head back to the room.
I’m about to twist the doorknob — to climb back into bed with him. My stomach drops, and my hand hovers in place when the thought crosses my mind — is this weird? Maybe he won’t think so, but the way my heart races around the topic is enough of a reason to avoid testing the theory. It wouldn’t be the first time I miscalculated a man’s feelings for me. I’ll assume this is just sex until he tells me otherwise.
