His tongue was dabbing her ear, his voice a whisper against her skin.
She nodded her head as he kept it up, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing as he was moving his hand up, working her over in multiple places.
She’d never felt anything quite like that before.
It was right next to her door where she was biting her tongue to not shout out so that someone on the other wall could hear her.
But that was his point.
He wanted her to let go. Or prove he could make her.
She’d let go but wouldn’t give away to her neighbors exactly how erotic she was feeling.
Dirty in such a glorious way.
She was moaning low now. It was almost impossible not to make any noise at all.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
“That’s it,” he said. “Come all over my hand. Shout out my name. Don’t hold it in.”
She wasn’t shouting, but she sure the hell wanted to.
Just as she came in that moment.
Her legs gave way, the wall the only thing keeping her up other than Chance’s hand. Her moan was just as long as the throbbing between her legs.
He kept it up, making the pleasure languish.
She gripped his face with her hands and made sure he was looking in her eyes. “Say my name.”
He smirked. “Jocelyn.”
“Chance,” she said. “Fuck me now.”
The startled look he gave her lasted a second but had him shifting back, his hand removing from her underwear and him reaching into his pocket.
The single condom made her pause. She didn’t think he’d had it on him while he was working. She hoped not. Maybe he had it in his truck.
Got to push those thoughts out.
He stepped back and undid his jeans; she pushed her underwear down her legs.
The condom package opened and she barely got a glimpse of his cock before he had her back against the wall, his mouth covering hers, and lifting her up.
She wrapped her legs around his waist; he probed for a second, found her opening and slammed in.
There was more than one moan that time and she hid her smile in triumph.
It was hard to do anything with him jerking into her, his tongue invading her as deeply as he was between her legs.
There was no fear that he didn’t have her. That she could fall. Chance wouldn’t drop her.
His hands went under her thighs as if his arms were a chair and she was sitting there while she took his thrusts as if he was trying to get to the bottom of her. Or touch her core.
He was touching her more than she’d felt before.
A second orgasm was building faster than the first and she knew beyond a doubt it was going to be harder.
