𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑

Twelve

Jess

It was useless to fight against him. He was right-I was no match for his strength. Instead of fighting him, I melted into him. I let him hold me tight, pulling my body closer to his. My aching, needy body. The body I'd wanted him to touch again for so long. Too long.

My breasts pressed against his chest, and I felt the rapid drumbeat that was his strong heart. I matched the beat with my own as blood rushed in my ears and the whole world spun out of control. I didn't care. Part of me rejoiced, actually-most of me rejoiced, reveling in the feeling of being touched again. Being kissed again. Being desired again. It was so foreign, to the point where I had almost tricked myself into forgetting how important it was. How all-consuming and crucial it was.

His tongue invaded my mouth, and I opened wider to let him in. My tongue touched his, then massaged it. He groaned, deep and low, the rumble reverberating in his chest. I shivered, knowing I could make him feel that way. Knowing he struggled as I struggled to keep himself under control.

His hands moved along my back, caressing me through the thin fabric of my camisole. His touch burned, but it was the kind of burn I wanted to feel again and again. The slightest pressure sent shockwaves through my body, all focused on that special area between my legs. An area that was already hot and wet, ready for more. It was like he'd flipped a switch.

I clawed his shoulders, our mouths still locked, the feel of his body beneath my hands only adding to the pleasure. His strong, thick shoulders. Just part of his powerful body. The arms that held me so tight, with the strength to crush me if he decided to. My knees went weak at the thought, and my body responded even more powerfully.

It wasn't right. None of it was right. We shouldn't have been doing it. Even as my nipples hardened and my breath came in short little gasps, I told myself it wasn't right. Even as he lowered me onto the bed, one leg between mine until his thigh rested against the apex of my legs, I told myself we shouldn't be doing it. We would only confuse ourselves. We would only make it even more difficult to say goodbye again. Because we would say goodbye. We had to. There was no way we could be together again, not after so much had happened. We couldn't go back.

So why did I throw my head back with a sigh as Grayson's mouth grazed my jaw, then my chin, before working its way down my throat? Why did I gasp and groan as his hands traveled over my body, caressing every inch of bare skin they could find? Why did my body scream for more, even as my mind screamed to stop? I had no idea. But my body won out. It always had where he was concerned.

Even as we made out, memories of the first time we ever made out like that came to mind. I hadn't known anything about a man's body except what I'd learned in Health class. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight and feeling of a denim-clad erection poking me. It hadn't mattered, though. I'd given myself over to it, letting my body and Grayson's hands take me where they wanted to go. I'd come for the first time that night, the pressure of him rubbing my mound while his free hand massaged my tender young breast enough to bring me to orgasm.

It was like that again, but even more so. Because I knew what was happening. I knew that the higher his hand crept up my leg, the wetter I would get and the harder it would be to contain my cries. I knew that when he brushed the tips of his fingers against my inner thigh, I would nearly collapse against him, desperate for a release from the delicious tension he was building inside me. I knew how rubbing my mound against his thigh would feel good, so good, almost too good. I knew how to hump him while driving my tongue deeper into his mouth, my hands now digging into his butt, pulling him closer to me, wanting more of him. I knew how to act, how to react, how to drive him crazy with my moans and sighs, with my mouth and hands. I knew how powerful it felt that he was turned on, too.

One of his hands ran over my shoulder, sliding a strap down my upper arm. He kissed my arm, my shoulder, then my chest. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his mouth, his tongue. He edged the top of the camisole down...down...until it brushed over my hard, taut nipple. He devoured me, sucking, licking, grunting. I went wild with pleasure, humping him even harder, pulling his thigh closer with the leg I wrapped around it. Taking what I needed.

I pulled his mouth from my breast for another kiss. His hand fondled me for a moment, before sliding between us. He took over for his thigh, applying just the right amount of pressure between my legs to leave me groaning into his mouth. He took a handful of my hair with his other hand, pulling, tangling his fingers in it.

I ripped my mouth from his long enough to whisper his name. "Yes, Grayson. Yes." I kissed him again, my mouth aching from the force. I held his face close to mine, my hips jerking frantically as my body worked for what it needed, what it had missed over so many long, lonely nights in my cold bed. Nights when only my fantasies could keep me warm. It had been so long since a man brought me to orgasm-over seven years. I needed it. I wanted it, desperately. I wanted him.

His hand slid beneath my cotton shorts, rubbing me through my panties. I was sure my wetness had soaked through by then. It was incredible how turned-on he'd gotten me. And still we kissed, him humping my leg, me humping his hand. Our tongues thrashing together. I felt myself rising higher and higher...oh, God, was I going to...oh, God...oh...oh...!

A knock at the door. We both froze, our kiss ending, and in some twisted part of my brain I thought of two kids making out on the living room floor, hearing a car pull into the driveway. I almost laughed.

"Mama?" That wasn't laugh-worthy. I closed my eyes, sinking into the bed a little bit.

"Yeah, baby?"

"What's happening in there? Can I come in?" The knob turned. And there I was, splayed across the bed with one breast hanging out.

"No, sweetheart! No, you just stay there. I was just talking with my friend. Are you okay?" I looked at Grayson, who had a funny mixture of relief and chagrin on his face-and maybe a little blue ball-related pain. Otherwise, we hadn't moved a muscle since David knocked.

"I can't sleep. I'm too scared." I could tell from the sound of his voice that he wasn't putting on. I couldn't blame him, either.

"Okay, honey. Be right there." I sighed, putting a hand over my face as Grayson's hand slid from between my thighs. I could have cried in frustration-I had been so close, too! I ached painfully, the pressure still at a fever pitch. It would have taken only another few moments to get me there. I was tempted to get back to it, if only for as long as it took for me to climax.

Responsibilities outweighed physical needs. I shot Grayson a look of apology, though I wasn't entirely sure David's knock hadn't been well-timed, either. I might have gone down a very unfortunate path had he not interrupted us.