Page 30 of Screwed
Her skin tingled everywhere, and now she was naked and he was gloved up, and she wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, so she shoved his T-shirt up over his chest and wriggled closer.
“Hang on, baby.” He unfastened the front opening of her bra and pushed it off. Once more he cupped her breasts, rubbing the heels of his hands up over her hard nipples. She pulled her shoulders back to push into his palms and moaned.
His hand dropped to between her thighs, and her body jolted at his touch. “Just making sure you’re ready.” He drew his fingertips through her folds, and she knew she was slick.
“Truth?” she murmured, curling her fingers around the back of his neck. “I was wet when we were driving home.”
“Fuck, Callie.”
“Yes, please.”
His lips twitched as he reached for his cock and directed the head of it to her softness. She scooted her butt closer still to help him, and then he was pushing inside her. Her head fell back at the intrusion, a swift burn flashing through her. “Big,” she gasped. “You’re really big.”
“You’re really tight.” His jaw tensed, and he slowly eased in deeper. “Holy hell.” A rumble rose in his chest. “This is gonna be fast.”
“That’s okay.” Now they were plastered against each other, skin to skin, her arms and legs twined around him, and she found his mouth again in a hot, yearning kiss. Pleasure expanded inside her from the pressure of his cock filling her. His hands slid under her butt and tilted her pelvis, and she found the right position where her clit was rubbing against him.
“Oh yeah,” she gasped. “Right there. Oh Jesus…yes. Yes. Fuck me, Cash.”
Their lips barely touched other than the whisper of short, panting breaths, and they gazed into each other’s eyes in a shockingly intimate connection. This man…oh God, this man…
Everything wound tighter and tighter into a sharp peak of near pain, and then she shattered, shuddering and pressing through her climax. Pleasure washed through her, tingling down her thighs all the way to her toes until she was limp. Cash’s eyes fell closed, his face grew tight, and his hands gripped her ass. Guttural noises rose from his throat, and then he came, too, in hot, weighty pulses inside her.
“Jesus,” he whispered a moment later, touching his lips to hers. “Jesus Christ.”
She drew a breath in through her nose and pursed her lips into a gentle kiss against his. “Yeah.”
Chapter Seven
Fuck. What had he fucking done?
He’d just fucked his best friend’s ex-wife.
Never mind that he’d been crazy about her for years. He couldn’t have her.
This was a nightmare.
His body still shuddering from an explosive orgasm, Callie tight around his still-hard dick, Cash tried to collect his wildly confused thoughts. That familiar feeling of self-loathing roared through him, tightening his quivering muscles and tensing his jaw. How could he feel so good and yet so fucking awful at the same time?
“Wow,” she whispered. “That was intense.”
That was fuckingnuclear. Also, he might have pulled a hamstring. Jesus Christ.
She petted his hair and the back of his neck, her face resting on his shoulder. His hands still held her sweet little ass and, goddammit, he never wanted to let go. He fought to get air into his straining lungs.
“Those endorphins are really something.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a reluctant smile. “Yeah.” That was what this was—hormones. That was it. He gave her ass a squeeze, then pulled his hands out, easing her butt to the counter. He drew back and looked at her.
She lifted her head and met his eyes. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“You look mad.”
“I’m not mad.” He swallowed a sigh.
“Yes, you are. Are you mad at me?” Her eyebrows pulled together.
