Page 11 of The Pact
I slowly trace a path from her hip to her center, and I brush my thumb over the seam of her shorts. In response, her hands move under the hem of my compression shirt, her palms hot against my skin.
“I’m sure. Just promise me we won’t ruin our friendship.”
“Never, Doc. Nothing could ever come between our friendship. And that includes my dick.” I smirk.
“Stop talking before I change my mind,” she sasses.
That’s all the permission I need. I reach over my head and grab the neck of my shirt and pull it off, then toss it into the shadows of the room. Her hands are back on me, and she toys with the waistband of my shorts. But I don’t stop. I run my hands up her ribs, lifting the loose crop top she’s wearing and easing it over her head. For a minute, I just take her in. Sure, I’ve seen herin a sports bra more than once, but knowing I’m about to peel it off makes my dick hard as a rock.
Goddamn is she beautiful. Her skin is flush, and her pulse thrums in the hollow of her throat. I lower my head and kiss the skin just below her ear. She lets out a soft moan, her head falling back as her nails dig into my shoulders.
“Saint,” she says with a soft exhale against my lips.
“I’ve got you,” I promise.
I kiss down her neck, tracing the line of her collarbone down to the swell of her breasts. The friction of the fabric against my lips frustrates me, so I pull off her sports bra, then cup her breasts when they spill free. She’s the perfect size, fitting in the palms of my hands. I feel a surge of possessiveness so strong that it makes my head spin.
I squeeze one breast in my hand and drop my mouth to the other, sucking her nipple hard, making her squirm.
“Don’t tease me, Saint.” She runs a hand through my hair and tugs.
I smirk against her dusty-pink nipple because it’s cute that she thinks that could stop me. But I don’t want to delay this moment any longer either. Not the ideal spot to fuck her for the first time, but I’m not gonna give her the chance to change her mind.
I kiss my way back up her chest, her neck, until my mouth finds hers with a hunger that’s borderline feral. This isn’t tentative. It’s wet and messy, and I want to swallow her whole.
“You’re stunning, Pres.” I break the kiss and run my tongue up her neck to her earlobe. “I’ve spent hours staring at you, and still … I wasn’t prepared for this.”
I memorize the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine, and the way her skin feels like silk under my callous palms.
When my hand slips under the waistband of her shorts, moving slowly over a thin strip of hair, she gasps against mymouth, and I feel her stomach muscles contract from my touch. My finger slides between her lips, coating it with her arousal. I push my finger inside her pussy, then out, and up to circle her clit. I can feel her body trembling just with me touching her like this.
We both move with a desperate, frantic energy—a decade’s worth of desire boiling over in this small office. The rest of our clothes are discarded in a heap on the floor. Including my knee brace.
Her hand wraps around my cock, and I can’t help but thrust into her palm.
Holy fuck. It’s even better than my dreams.
Every stroke, she arches into me as if she’s been starving for me like I have been for her. We’re frantic, but our breathing is synchronized. And the scent of her coconut shampoo, mixed with our sweat, fills my senses.
I pull back to look at her—really look at her. Her long blonde hair is falling out of her ponytail, and her eyes have the same fire that’s burning me alive. She’s so fucking gorgeous, and she’s every fantasy I’ve ever had.
“Presley,” I mumble, my voice gravelly.
“Don’t you dare stop, Saint. I know you’re clean, and I’m clean and on the pill.”
She winds her legs around my waist, pulling me into her, and my dick meets the wet heat of her pussy, making me groan. I fist my cock and slide it up and down her slit, circling her clit with the crown. And with a patience I didn’t know I had, I enter her in one slow, agonizing drive. The fit is so tight and feels so right. Like a physical click.
I grab the back of her thighs and hold still for a second, letting her warmth surround me. My muscles strain to keep me from losing control, and my eyes are locked on hers. I want to see her. I need to make sure she’s with me.
I can feel her legs tremble, and the way her fingers hold my hair, I know she’s as undone as I am.
Resting my forehead against hers, I try to regain some control so I don’t blow my load before we even get started.
“You okay?” I breathe against her lips.
“I’m perfect.” A small, airy laugh escapes her. “Just … please move, Saint.”
I pull out slowly, then push back in, my muscles straining to maintain a pace that won’t break us both. Every inch of me is connected to her.
