Pen Pal

18

Then he rips open the button, pulls down the zipper, shoves his face in the opening, and inhales.

He makes a noise deep in his throat. A primal, masculine sound of desire that sends a shiver straight through me. With another fast movement, he yanks my jeans down my hips, exposing me.

He buries his face between my legs and starts licking.

Moaning helplessly, I plunge my hands into his hair and time the movement of my hips to the strokes of his tongue. I can’t open my thighs wider because they’re now restricted by the waistband of my jeans, but it doesn’t matter. Aidan knows exactly what he’s doing. He slides his hands under my ass and lifts my hips, gripping my ass cheeks and French kissing my p***y as I writhe and moan in desperation.

Shuddering, I gasp his name.

“Come on,” he whispers hotly, flicking his tongue back and forth over my throbbing c**t. “Let go, baby.”

I’ve never had a man call me that before. Michael didn’t use nicknames, and the boyfriends I had before him didn’t either. I don’t know why I find it so insanely sexy, but I do. I don’t want him to call me Kayla ever again.

He stops licking to suckle on my c**t like he’s drawing milk from a n****e. I orgasm in his mouth, mindlessly crying out his name.

He continues sucking until I beg him to stop because it’s too sensitive. Then he stands up, pulls my jeans the rest of the way down my legs, pops open the buttons on his fly, and tears his own jeans off.

I get a split-second view of thigh tattoos and an erection surrounded by dark pubic hair before Aidan is on top of me again, kissing me passionately as he slides the head of his c**k up and down between my p***y lips to get it lubricated.

He shoves it inside me with one sudden, forceful thrust.

As I cry out, he growls into my ear, “Tell me if I need to pull out or I’m gonna come inside you.” Without waiting for an answer, he starts to f**k me deep and hard.

And I love it. God help me, but I do. He said he was going to make love to me, but this is far more animalistic than that. It’s rough and rowdy, and I have to fight back the laugh of euphoria that wants to break from my chest.

When he takes my mouth again, I taste myself on him. Some dim part of my brain recognizes that all the lights are on, and I should probably be feeling at least a little self-conscious, but there’s no room for that. With every powerful thrust of his hips, he’s taking me out of my head and deeper into my body, making me feel everything.

My hard n*****s dragging against his chest.

His fingers pulling my hair.

Our teeth clashing as we kiss deeply.

The noises we’re both making and the sounds of our bodies joining. I think I can even hear his heart pounding as madly as mine.

Then he startles me by rolling to his back and taking me with him. Panting, I stare down at him in a haze of pleasure. I flatten my hands over his broad chest.

He licks his lips and runs his hands up and down my body, pausing to squeeze my breasts, then follows the shape of my ribcage and waist down to my hips. He digs his fingers into the flesh there and flexes his pelvis upward, driving himself deeper inside me.

“Move,” he orders through clenched teeth.

The man doesn’t have to ask twice. I bounce up and down on his hard c**k until my thighs are aching and both of us are groaning and sweating and he says, “You need to come?”

“Yes!”

He presses his thumb against my c**t and keeps it there as I work my hips, madly gorging myself on his thick shaft.

He commands darkly, “Then do it.”

It’s as if he threw a switch. My v****a starts to convulse, clenching around his d**k in violent, rhythmic pulses. They’re so powerful, I lose my breath. I drop my head back, close my eyes, and sink my fingernails into his chest muscles, listening to him grunt in pleasure as he f***s me and I come hard on his c**k.

He reaches up and roughly squeezes my breast. “So f*****g good,” he hisses. “Jesus Christ.

Kayla. f**k. I’m right—”

He breaks off with a groan and comes inside me, jerking.

I look down at him.

His eyes are closed. His head is tipped back on the pillow. His abdominal muscles are clenched and so are his jaw and biceps. His skin gleams with a light sheen of sweat. A vein is popped out and pulsing wildly in the side of his neck, and I understand with a flash of brilliant clarity that this felt as good for him as it did for me.

That feeling of euphoria returns. Without knowing I’m going to do it, I start to laugh.

Breathing hard, Aidan opens his eyes and gazes up at me.

He says gruffly, “You good?”

I grin at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not having a psychotic break or anything. This is just like wow.”

His dark eyes flashing, he returns my grin and squeezes my hips. He looks like a pirate who just found a shitload of gold treasure.

I’m hit with the sudden awful thought that he might think this is just another average Thursday night for me. Like maybe hopping into bed with semi-strangers is par for the course, and this was nothing special.

I don’t want him to think that.

So I say, “I promise I don’t normally do this. Actually, I’ve never done this before.” “Had s*x?”

I thump him on his chest. “You know what I mean, funny guy.”