Page 58 of Let the Light Shine Through

“Yeah, it’s so stupid.” And weird and sometimes even embarrassing. “I have no idea why, but I sneeze when I’m turned on.”

“You’re good then?”

“Ye—”

My response dies on my tongue as Roz lowers himself, circling his hips so his dick hits my pussy like a tornado, around and around. Quickly losing myself in the rotations, I stop caring if I get consumed or not. I’m just chasing the storm, looking for a good time. A good time for a short time.

“Gia?”

With a hand buried against my scalp, Roz angles my chin skyward, biting my jaw, and the moan from the delicious pain is all I can manage as a response.

“Gia, I’m not ready to kiss you yet, but I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t touch you soon.”

“Tell me,” I breathe out, needing to hear his words as much as he does. “Tell me what you want and you can have anything.”

His grip in my hair tightens, and I cry out, my pussy spasming.

“Fuck, that makes me so hard, baby. I want everyone to hear you scream for me. Can you do that? Can you let me touch you and make you come apart, so the street will know who’s fucking you?”

Wicked words from a sinfully deep voice make for a dangerous weapon. One I’m ready to take the brunt of. Now.

In reply, I arch my back clear off the flimsy vinyl beneath me, hooking a leg around his back and meeting Roz’s swirling hips with my own. It’s difficult to pull off, but Roz takes the challenge and grinds into me that much rougher, creating waves both in the water and my core.

Our breaths stutter over each other’s mouths, and I consider closing the gap.

“Don’t,” he warns.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t fucking stop. When I get my lips on you again, Gia, I won’t. Fucking. Stop.”

“Just my lips though, right?” He came up with some pretty good alternatives before that didn’t count as kissing—according to Roz. And me too, I guess.

A light bulb above his head flares to life, and he tells me to sit up. But Roz’s eyes are glossed over like a man without reason, and I need to know how we can make this possible. The inflatable pool barely fits the length of his body alone, so him trying to scoot down any farther is out of the question. Thanks to all our frenzied movement, we’ve already disturbed the water to the point of large waves splashing over the wall and onto our blankets.

“Sixty-nine?” I offer, saying, “I won’t even kiss you. Just suck your cock like a fucking popsicle.”

“Fuuuck, your mouth.”

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it. You fuck my mouth.”

Roz curses, his dick thrusting into me so hard I whimper. Whimper.

Gawd, who am I? Next I’ll be mewling.

I’m not fucking mewling.

“You got a mouth on you, too,” Roz grits out, his words choppy like the waves surrounding us.

“And I know how to use it.”

He’s still trying to prolong things. A part of me just wants him to redeem that last kiss already. Pair that with a hand job and this’ll all be over in a matter of minutes.

A bigger part of me wants Roz to make good on his word to make Greek Sac hear my screams.

“But…”

“But what?”