Page 97 of Meant to Be

A low hiss escapes him and his fingers tighten, the skin stretching across his knuckles turning white. The ground bites into my knees as I run my tongue over him. A low groan rumbles from his chest as I lick up and down his length, pushing myself to take him further.

With my eyes still on his, I wrap my fingers around him and move it up and down. He murmurs something incoherent as his eyes drift close. His head falls back, bits of his dark hair falling across his face as I move faster, loving thatI’mdoing this tohim.

Blood rushes to my cheeks as I quicken my movements. My erratic heartbeat thunders in my ears, blocking out every other sound around me.

“I’m close.” He releases a breathy groan, bucking his hips upwards, thrusting himself deeper down my throat to the point I’m gagging.

“Again,” I tell him, although it’s more of a mumble, considering my mouth is full.

He pushes himself into me again, his hand pressing to the back of my head, tangling my hair through his fingers. He tugs slightly and I moan. The mixture of the pain and his pleasure is a wicked combination that I can feel myself already growing addicted to.

“Now,” he chokes out, just as an explosion of warmth spurts across my tongue. Closing my eyes, I swallow it all down.

Slowly, his fingers drag tenderly across my scalp as I do one final lick before rocking back onto my heels. Dragging my mouth across the back of my hand, I gaze up at him.

“That was better than I could have imagined, sweetheart,” he whispers, cupping my face gently and guiding me to meet his lips. We kiss and this time it’s gentle and warm.

“I have to go,” I whisper, the taste of him still on my tongue. “Call me later?”

“Yes.”

He gives me a soft smile, stroking his thumb over my cheek. I step back. I touch his arm gently before I rush to the van, refilling the popcorn bowl I’d long forgotten about on the ground.

My breath still isn’t back when I climb into the tray.

“Where did you run off to?” Eric questions, the faded light from the screen flashing a few times, casting a pale glow over my friends. I hope they can’t see how flushed my skin is.

I wave the bucket. “Refill.”

“Must have been a long line,” he comments, more to himself than me as he drifts back to the other truck.

I feel Nick’s eyes searing holes into the side of my head as I get comfortable. I sneak a glance over my shoulder.

Blue eyes stare back at me before they sink into the shadows.