Ryker
Now that I’ve heard Justine come, a question is battering around in my brain—did she come that night I pinned her up against the wall in the back hallway of the bar? I have to know, but I’m fumbling with how to ask the question because her eyes are locked on my dick and she’s practically licking her lips.
Fuck, my dick would look amazing between those lips.
I yank my thoughts back to the question at hand. “That night at the bar? In the hallway when I kissed you? Did you come? I didn’t think anyone could come that easy.”
I wish I could see her face, because I would bet anything that her cheeks are bright red.
She mumbles something I can’t make out.
“What was that?”
“This is so humiliating,” she whispers. “I just dry-humped you. Like we’re fifteen or something.”
I smile at her words. I sure haven’t gone this slow with any woman since I hit sophomore year of high school, so she’s not far off in that assessment.
“I want to make you come again.”
Deciding the best way to stem her embarrassment is to do exactly that, I press a quick kiss to her lips before sliding down her body until only the soaked panties she’s wearing separate my mouth from my goal.
“I want to taste you. Touch you. Make you come harder than you’ve ever come before. I want this wet pussy in my mouth. On my tongue. I want you to come on my face this time.”
Justine’s eyes widen but there’s no protest from her lips, and even a slight nod.
She wants it too. I know she does. Because I’m right there with her.
I keep my eyes on hers as I hook a finger in the material of her panties at each hip and draw them down. Sweet fucking heaven—that’s what I reveal. A tiny dark strip of hair and bare pussy lips are before me.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” I glance up to meet her eyes. “Right down to your tight little pussy.”
She likes the dirty talk. I could tell when she was rubbing against me and my words sent her over the edge. Well, she’ll get plenty of it from me because it turns me on just as much.
I lower my mouth and waste no time getting that first taste by sweeping my tongue between her lips.
Sweet. Fucking. Heaven. She’s tart and tangy and everything I wanted her to be and more. I know I should start slow and take my time, but the taste of her goes straight to my head. I devour.
Justine’s quiet moans and cries are the only incentive I need to keep going. I’m going to make this so good for her that she’ll never be able to think about her pussy without remembering how good it felt with my mouth on her.
I’m going to ruin her for other men. No one will ever make her come as hard as I will.
I move my hand to slide a finger inside her and the muscles clamp down on me. A second finger has her writhing against my mouth, and I wrap my lips around her clit and suck. Her moans quiet, and I look up to see Justine holding a pillow over her mouth to silence the sound.
I keep going, sucking, licking, tonguing, and fingering her until her legs tense and a muted cry reaches my ears. Her inner muscles convulse around my fingers, and I don’t stop until her fingers curl into my hair and lift my head.
Justine’s wide eyes are hazy with pleasure, and I love knowing I did that. I want to be the only man who can do that for her.
When did I decide I was keeping her?
Shit, does the answer to that question really matter? Because Justine’s not the kind of woman you can decide to keep if she doesn’t want to be kept. My future—well-planned out not so very long ago—is now as hazy as her eyes. I don’t know what the fuck I want to do with my life, but I know Justine has specific plans for hers.
I push up from between her legs, keeping my eyes on hers as I lean forward and kiss her. Against her lips I ask, “Do you like how you taste, baby? Because I think you taste amazing.”
She doesn’t reply, only jams her fingers into my hair again and yanks me closer, taking the lead. The kiss lasts for long minutes until she pulls back. My cock is throbbing, and there’s nothing I want to do more than bury it inside her right now.
But Justine jerks away and slides out from under me. “I have to go. I can’t do this. We have to stop.”
I grab her hand as she stumbles to her feet, stalling her hasty exit. “Can’t do what? We just did.”
Justine shakes her head. “We have to stop. This can’t happen. I can’t afford for this to happen.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but she’s full of shit. “This is happening, whether you can afford for it to happen or not. You can’t imagine how bad I want to make you come again. There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing.”
She squeezes her eyes shut as she turns away, tugging at the hold I have on her hand.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
She turns back, face blank. “You don’t have a choice.”
There’s something in her eyes I can’t read, and as much as I want to drag her back into my bed and keep her there all night, I don’t want to do it fighting her every step of the way. I’ve been chasing her for over two years, and she’s pushed me away at every opportunity. I thought things would change. I thought we’d found level ground, but she’s still pushing me away.
Frustration mounts and I drop her hand. “You need to realize you can only push someone away so many times before they stop coming back.”
“I never asked you to keep coming back.” Justine’s words are quietly final as she slips out of my room through the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a creak of the hinges.
Maybe she didn’t ask me to, but that has never stopped me. Am I really going to let her push me away and not chase her this time?
And what did she mean, she can’t afford for this to happen? What does she have to lose?
My mind works overtime as I lie in bed, alone. She lost her scholarship. I’m almost positive she didn’t take a job at the strip club. She must have gotten student loans . . . but if she didn’t, then how the hell is she paying for school? Her job at the business school library can’t possibly cover the tuition costs, and based on her reaction about her car and what she said about getting lucky to find a cheap place to live, I know she’s not rolling in cash.
So, what the hell is left?