The Secret's Out

Chapter Eight: Lazy Love

WARNING! Let’s just make all of this clear now: below the break, there is a SEX SCENE. I know, you little perverts talked me into it. Now, if you don’t wanna read it, feel free to skip down to the ***; that’s where the beginning of the next scene (which only hints at the previous night) (actually, Valery may or may not shout what happened) starts. Hope you enjoy this, you little shits; it was so hard to write.

Fun fact: I feel like Ne-Yo’s song Lazy Love was made for this chapter. Just saying~

He stopped just above my bra, teasing the skin with his teeth, hot breath brushing my chest. I arched my back, whimpering quietly, but he simply chuckled, ignoring my pleas and continuing with his own enjoyment. Just when my bra was almost nudged completely off, he slipped his hand behind me, fingers dancing across my skin as he unhooked the back. He slipped it off, getting a quiet chuckle when I lobbed it against the wall, wrapping my arms around his neck. The chuckle subsided, but the smirk was still fresh as I kissed him, hot and quick. His skin was cool against me, taking its time heating up, and his fingers skimmed the length of my arms. When they reached the tips of my fingers, he unhooked my hands from behind his neck, pinning them above my head.

“Not this again,” I whined, airy, dazed, breathless.

He chuckled; pressing opened mouth kisses on my breast. I expected it to be fast, something people did when they were so overdrawn with need that they just went at it, but he was in complete control, slow, patient. He’d tease the skin just around, move in a little closer, and then pull away.

When he finally took my nipple in his mouth, I arched my back, breathing heavily. “Shit,” I whimpered.

“You shouldn’t cuss, Deserae,” he teased, swirling his tongue slowly.

“Bite me,” I managed to breath out.

He did, nibbling softly.

I groaned. “I hate you so much.”

He simply chuckled, teasing the other breast.

I squirmed, torn between letting him continue with his assault and needing to feel him, but when I tried to free my hands, he only tightened his hold on my wrists.

“Please,” I whispered. “I want… I need to touch you.”

He paused, surprised, but did as I asked, letting go and relocating his hands to the mattress by my head, holding him up.  I wasn’t having any of it, though, needing to feel him on every inch. Wrapping my arms back around his neck, I pulled him down on me. He groaned at the contact, kissing me hard.

As I kissed him back, my fingers slid along his chest, tracing the barely-there six-pack, before undoing the button on his jeans.

His hand caught mine just as they were unzipped, still not breaking the kiss as he placed them against his chest. Instead, he used his elbow to keep himself up, the other hand snatching my jeans and pulling them and my underwear off in one movement. Bare to the world, I stared at him, half questioning, half panting.

“Couldn’t let you undress me first, could I?” he murmured against my neck. “What fun would that be?”

I ignored his teasing, slipping my hands in the loops of his jeans and pushing them down. He helped when he saw how much problem I was having getting them all the way off, kicking them to the foot of the bed with mine.

We still weren’t even; he had on black boxer briefs, covering himself from me. I didn’t have time to protest, though, because his teeth latched on my neck and he sucked, hard, being sure to leave a mark. Instead of protesting, I moved my head to the side, baring my neck, giving him plenty of room to deepen the bruise, sucking harder.