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“Screw the dishes.”
“The food will call animals.”
“We’ll deal with it later. Right now, there’s nothing I want more than for you to stake your claim on my dick.”
“You make it sound so…dirty.”
“The things I want to do to you are dirty, Raeann.”
I cling to him as he crawls across the bed, and then he lowers himself on top, using the friction from his erection to rub me in the most delicious way.
When I look up at him, he’s not just the Micah Freeman I watched play football or mentioned was super hot when I was high. This ismyMicah. Intense. Obsessive. Stubborn.
“You know what I want,” he growls into my ear.
His words from the other night come back to me. He wanted me to own it. Take my need for him and run with it.
So, that’s what I do.
I focus on us instead of the lies in my brain. Instead of fear steering me, the feelings coursing through me act like a rudder on a boat. Right now, I’m mapped straight to him. Always him.
Micah says love should hurt, and if he’s right, I am consumed with it.
I reach between us, pushing his gray joggers down his hips, past his hard cock, and around his ass before I cup him over his boxer briefs.
“You can do better.”
I squirm against him before using one hand to pull his boxers away from his skin and the other to skim across his taut abs and grip his dick.
“Fuck yes,” he groans.
The silky skin of his cock slides within my fist as he begins to thrust. His jaw tightens, muscles feathering. He groans when I squeeze, his movements quickening. Wild eyes meet mine, and I can barely breathe.
“You don’t understand what you do to me.” We stay in that position until his face is pure torture and then he moves off the bed to strip his joggers all the way off.
I raise to my knees, pulling the hem of my dress up over my head. “Pretty sure I could’ve made you come like that.”
As soon as my dress is out of my hands, he’s on me again, kissing a trail up my stomach to my collarbone. “Good. I’m glad you noticed. Know that every time you touch me, it takes the greatest restraint not to blow like a pervy teenager.”
Micah pulls the cup of my bra down, using his mouth to tease my nipple, coaxing it into a hard peak.
“You didn’t mention my bra.”
He moves to my other breast, giving it the same attention before briefly pulling back to run his hands along the red lace. “Distracted.” He smirks. “There’s so much I want to do. Kiss every inch of you. Taste you. Fuck you.”
“D: All of the above. This bed is so comfy, by the way.”
“You can stay in it forever. You can make it yours.” A gleam in his eyes says he very much means it. The certainty there makes my stomach clench. He’s not just talking about a romp in bed. He never was.
I reach up to cup his cheek. The emotion in his gaze scares me. Mostly because I feel it, too. I tried to deny it. I lied to myself about his true feelings, but here they are, right in my face. I can’t discredit them now.
Suddenly, he flips me until I’m face down on his pillows. He squeezes the bare skin of my ass, using his skilled fingers to knead me there. “Remember when I rubbed my dick on you at the fundraiser?”
He positions himself over me, stroking his cock against my ass cheeks. All I can do is moan in response. Even though it was forbidden then, out in public like that, I wanted him.
I arch into him, and within moments, he flips me again. I breathe through the excitement, my chest rising and lowering quickly. “Then what happened?” he asks, as if to himself. He traces a finger down my stomach, across the lace of my thong, to the apex of my thighs. I open for him, expecting him to continue with his story, but he lifts his brows at me eagerly.
“You talked me through an orgasm.”