The Lakehouse

EIGHT | 8

When I open my eyes, I'm greeted by the sight of Deon's strong arms wrapped around me, his chest pressed against my back, his nose buried in the nape of my neck. I'm overwhelmed at his touch and overall closeness of our bodies, ashamed to admit that I don't want this feeling to end.

The sun should be up, but because of the heavy rain outside, the room is still dim, quiet with only the sound of raindrops pattering against the windows. The silhouette of some trees sway in the wind, their shadows dancing on the adjacent wall.

He breathes against my neck. I move my head a little and then he tightens his hold on me, pulling me closer, if that's even possible.

I take a deep breath, inhaling his scent - a mix of musk and something uniquely him. It's intoxicating. I feel strangely safe, protected. I'm not sure he realizes what he's doing because now I can feel his right hand, moving. He traces a path along the curvatures of my hip, from top to bottom and it leaves me burning. Very quickly.

Does he fuck that many women to the point that he's doing this shit in his sleep?

My thoughts are interrupted by the unexpected sensation. A poking sensation. It's his...oh fuck.

I still don't have bottoms on so I can feel him...all of him. The sudden intrusion of his arousal rests heavily against the crack of my ass, its girthy length startles me into awareness and I pull away, scrambling out of his bed.

He's startled awake now and as I walk towards the door, I turn to see that Deon has changed positions and is now laying on his back. I look at the window behind him, raindrops streaming downwards, the shadow of the droplets dancing across his chest.

With one hand resting behind his neck and the other resting where my body was laying just seconds ago, he cocks a leg up, looking unashamed at the bulge that towers in front of him, in front of me. His gaze is completely on me and my mouth starts to salivate at the sight of him.

I look at him, and our eyes meet. For a moment, time stands still. I see something in his deep brown eyes. Desire, a certain hunger. And I know he sees it in mine. He parts his perfect lips like he wants to say something but instead, he sighs and pulls the covers back over himself. The sight of him is too much to bear, and the room is suddenly too hot.

I need to get out of here. So I walk out the door, and I don't look back.

My cheeks hurt as I rush out of his room and into my own. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can't stop thinking about the feeling of his dick pressed against me. My body still hurts from the accident yesterday and my first instinct is to lay back down on my bed, my hands shaking as I try to steady my breathing. But all I can think about is Deon, and the way his body felt against mine.

I need to... I want to...

My hands slide under my shirt before I can think about doing something else. I close my eyes, and my hands find the rounds of my areolas. As expected, my nipples are as hard as pebbles, the sensation of my fingers grazing them sending shivers coursing through my body. My teeth sink into the plump flesh of my lower lip as I try to simulate how it would feel, to have him inside of me, or how it would feel... his tongue, rolling over my erect mounds, flicking and teasing until I was dizzy with carnal desire.

My panting is uncontrollable as my hand slides down between my legs, my fingers trailing along the inside of my thighs. I slip my hand underneath my saturated panties, and I moan softly as I touch myself. I can feel the tension building inside of me, and I know I won't be able to stop until I reach my peak.

But as I close my eyes, rubbing ferociously, guilt plagues over me. Frustration too, because I don't want to want Deon, the way I do right now. It's a fire that I can't exactly put out right away and I don't want to feel this way about him. And I can't help the way my body is reacting to the idea of him, the way my heart was racing just moments ago, when I was in his bed.

But I continue anyway, I need this.

I don't know what's going on. I mean, I do, but this isn't my nature. It's a new feeling and I'm scared. His smell still lingers on my skin, reminding me of the intimacy we shared last night and some of this morning.

My mind is full of him as my fingers draw tortuous circles on my clit, each stroke sends waves of pleasure through me. My pussy aches with need, and as much as I try, my fingers can't fully satisfy me. Fuck, I can't believe I'm thinking about Deon like this.

My mouth parts and I draw my head back, holding myself up with my unoccupied arm on the bed. My chest heaves and my legs spread wider as I concentrate on how I believe he'd want to satisfy me. I think he'd take his time, edging and teasing me until I was left squirming, begging for him to fuck me silly.

His lips would trace an erotic path from my neck to my breasts. His mouth would close over a nipple and he'd eye me fiercely as he sucks deliberately, just enough to drive me insane with undying need.

"Fuuck."

I whimper at the thought, my fingers working faster now, mirroring the rhythm and speed that I think Deon would use. My cheeks burn and my breathy moans louden. I can't stop how fast I'm going and the irreversible, euphoric feeling is almost at my doorstep.

I can feel it, rushing like a tidal wave, and now I'm cuming so fucking hard that my vision blurs, the world spinning around me as my propped up arm, releases my body to fall against my bed. My mouth gapes, eyebrows furrowed and I'm shuddering, shaking in ecstasy.

"Ay... Ky?"

I flinched, my heart hurts from the sudden thumping in my chest. I look to the right and I can't even remove my drenched fingers from myself to deny what just happened, Joel's voice echoing in my doorway.

Fuck, he's seen everything, my face, my exposed breasts, my widened legs... everything. Out and in the open. My cheeks burn even hotter, but this time, it's not from pleasure, but pure embarrassment.

I thought I closed the fucking door! How long was he standing there?

I quickly pull my hand away, my heart pounding in my chest. I don't know if I'm ready to look him in the eyes, but I get up, adjusting my— Deon's shirt and stomp over to the door, closing it quickly in Joel's face. My heart pounds uncontrollably as I slide down the door, breathless and flustered.

"Keyser," Joel's voice floats through the door, laced with an awkward tension we've never shared before. "I, uh... I didn't mean to, uh... I didn't realize you were..." His words trail off into a silence. He's still trying to talk but I'm not even listening anymore. The humiliation is fucking killing me, to the point that my skin starts crawling. I bury my face into my hands, wanting to forget that this ever happened.

I want him to shut the fuck up because I don't want Deon to pick up on what's going on across the hall... What I left his room to go do. So I yell back to him. "Oh my God. Just go, Joel!"

He's quiet for a moment longer before he finally shuffles off, his footsteps trailing away through the hallway and I can hear him going back upstairs, to his loft. I let out a long breath that I didn't realize I was holding in.

I stay here for a while, my head leaning back against the door, the cool of the wood seeping through Deon's shirt and onto my still heated skin. I don't even want to think about it, and between Deon and Joel, my mind is stuck on a loop of this morning and what just happened.

And I can't help but to laugh at all of it.