So while Nadine and I try to keep our hands off each other in front of my fifteen-year-old sister, when she’s otherwise occupied, my hands are on my girlfriend.
And she has yet to say no to me. Like I fantasized.
“Bend over,” I order. “Farther.”
Nadine forgets about her orange and curls her hands around the edge of the marble, angling her hips so far back, her chest almost touches the counter, and I drag her bike shorts down her legs, finding her bare underneath.
“Filthy fucking girl.” I roam my hands over the globes of her ass and between them. “You knew I was going to be doing this and wanted to be ready, huh?”
She glances over her shoulder, trying on an attitude. “Maybe I don’t like wearing underwear when I work out.”
I smack her thigh. “Or maybe you wanted me to know, drive me wild thinking about it later.”
I don’t let her answer because I bend, swiping my tongue over her slit, stretching her cheeks with my hands, giving meroom to tease her all over. She wiggles her hips, groaning softly when I lap at her clit, trying to make her as wet as possible since I don’t have any lube close and I’m too impatient to give her the few orgasms she deserves right now. I just need to be inside her.
Keeping one hand on her hip, I put her into position, while I work on shoving my sweats and underwear down enough to free my length. We’ve both been tested and cleared, so we haven’t used a condom since that first night together, and I’m able to thrust inside with nothing between us.
As always, the first grip of her tight heat is painfully good, and I hiss as I find my vision and footing before inching out and in a few times. But my girl’s as impatient as I am today, arching her spine and pushing against me. So I give her what we both want and fuck her hard and fast.
“Yes, Camden,” she pants out, and I love my name on her lips anytime, but especially when her head is thrown back and her fingers are scrabbling for purchase.
With such a big height difference between us, I’m always hunching over and bending my knees, but I’m so focused on being inside her that I wrap my hands around her hinged hips and lift her up, so her toes no longer touch the floor. She squeals in surprise before it melts into a moan when I grit out, “I got you. I got you.”
And I do.
I won’t let her go. I won’t hurt her.
I only want to love her.
As long and as often as possible.
Whether it’s with a hug or earning a playful eye roll or a slow, drawn-out orgasm, I want to give her everything she needs to keep her happy.
In the few short days I’ve been able to indulge in all of my fantasies—chaste and innocent or completely depraved—I’ve come to know her well. Like the fact that her love language is quality time and that she doesn’t have a favorite holiday and would live somewhere with warm weather year-round. She usedto love playing Barbies as a kid because she would set them all up as her students so she could teach them, and she still keeps in touch with her college friends and former colleagues from her school. She eventually wants two or three kids and would like a refrigerator that makes crushed ice because it’s her favorite kind. I didn’t know people could have favorite kinds of ice, but I do know what Nadine Rivera looks and sounds like when she orgasms, so I know she’s close now.
I am too. I’m always close when I’m inside her, continually on the edge, only barely holding out because I go over my stats in my head, trying my best to ignore her whimpers that rocket my adrenaline.
“Get there, Riv,” I grunt, on my way to pleading, and set her feet on the floor, so I can loop my arm around her, circling her clit with my fingers, finally sending her soaring.
She takes me with her, inner muscles clamping around me as she chantsyes, yes, yesquietly. I keep pumping into her, making a mess of us, watching as my come leaks out of her, smearing on her thighs.
“So hot,” I rasp, and she eventually lifts her head from the counter to meet my gaze over her shoulder.
“Filthy fucking boy.”
I grunt a chuckle. “Damn right. But I’ll clean you up.” I carefully pull out of her and hike up my sweats. Then I sweep her into my arms, carrying her like a bride to the bathroom. “Take a bath with me.”
“Well, if you insist,” she says like she’s put out.
I set her down on the counter of the sink to run the water, adding some oil. I strip first, turning away from her to check the temperature, and that’s when I feel her behind me, hands touching the circular bruises on my back. “Tender?”
When I shake my head, she kisses one before removing her clothing. I watch her pick up her pile of clothes and mine to put in the laundry bin, hidden in the closet, unafraid of being naked in front of me and behaving as if this is her house too.
I want it to be.
Strolling about in nothing but her birthday suit, grabbing new clean towels, and helping herself to stepping inside the tub. When she realizes I’ve been leering at her like an idiot, she raises her brows. “What?”
“Nothing. I just love you, is all.”
