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I know what I’m doing when I text Scott at four in the morning.
He knows what I’m doing, too.
That’s why he shows up twenty-three minutes later, freshly showered with a condom in his pocket and a barely dissolved breath mint on his tongue.
I smirk as he looms over me. “You are such a dirty old man.”
“We need to stop doing this.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re twenty-one and I’m not. Because I want to take you on a f***ing date and you won’t. Because we wind up yelling at each other half the time.”
“But the rest of the time you’re inside me and it feels so good, right?”
His eyes darken and I don’t need to look down to know he’s hard for me.
*** THIS IS A STANDALONE BOOK, CONNECTED TO THE HORUS GROUP SERIES ***
Scott
It’s obscene, this view of my cock sliding between her legs.
Beautiful, how wet she is for me. How slick her slit is, making me glide faster, rub harder.
That’s us. Beauty and the beast. My arms flex as I hold myself above her, surging our bodies together.
Almost fucking.
It’s even more perverted like this.
“See how much I’d fill you up,” I rasp, and she jerks her head up.
She was already watching, but now she’s looking right at me. Like she sees every twisted want in my head and they get her off. Blood pounds through my body. She licks her lips and the throb in my cock hurts so bad now.
“Yeah, I see,” she whispers. “You’re so big. You’ll never fit.”
That shouldn’t turn me on. It never has before, not like this. Not this fantasy. But it totally does. She writhes beneath me, taunting me to play, too. Fuck, yes. I press her legs wide and grind against her, my cock riding hard over her clit and onto her belly again. “I’d break you, Ali.”
“I want you to.” She reaches for me, winding her arms around my neck, and she tugs me down.
I could hold myself up. I could resist her. Make us both watch as her breath grows shallow, as her nipples tighten and her tits flush.
But if I let her bring me close for a kiss, if she wraps her legs around my hips, it’s going to feel…
“Oh,” she gasps, as the angle between us shifts, and suddenly, my cock is right there.
She’s so wet. It’s such a mindfuck, knowing that I can’t just slam into her.
My dick didn’t get the message. He’s drooling hard, a big fucking puppy dog barking at the park.
I don’t have a condom on. She’s never done this before.
We can’t.
She rolls her hips, and the tip—just the tip, holy fuck, it’s a wet dream come true—notches into place.
Yes. My mind scrambles with how good this feels.
“We can’t,” I mutter, and it’s so guttural I’m not even sure it’s English.
She kisses me, hot and frantic, her breath puffing against my mouth as she licks at me and looks down between us and then kisses me again.
“Come on,” she says. “Just a little bit. I just wanna feel you…” She whimpers as I press my hips. Just a little bit.
What she wants.
He’s not going in any further, not without one of us working hard for it. My balls pull tight, begging to blow their load in a virgin pussy, and she wants it. I want it. It’s the middle of the night and I can’t remember why this is a bad idea.
Two consenting adults.
A fucking shared craving that isn’t going anywhere, no matter what we do.
Heat and need are swirling around me now, binding me to her, but I can’t do this. I pull back, and this time I don’t let her hold me close. She growls beneath me, fierce and proud, and I haul her up and off the bed, holding her against me as I spin us so I’m sitting against her headboard and she’s on my lap.
My cock is safely wedged between us, his wet tip angrily slapping my belly.
“You want me inside you, Ali?”
She winds her hands into my hair. “You know I do. You got a virgin hang-up or something?”
I laugh, harsh and hollow. Or something. “You being a virgin isn’t a problem.”
She smirks. “I know it turns you on.” She licks her lips. “It turns me on, too. I wasn’t kidding when I said I want you to break me.”
“I’m not
doing that to you. That’s not what sex is, Ali.”
“You going to teach me? I want to know every last dirty thing you know.”
“You’ve got Tumblr. You don’t need me to teach you.” My dick disagrees, and Ali makes this hungry little sound in her throat as my erection throbs between her legs.
“Stop perving on my Tumblr account, old man.” She rocks down my length. Back up again. Then she stops and grabs my hands. She presses them to her hips, then slides them up to her breasts. I love her tits so much. They’re ripe and firm and surprisingly heavy.
They’re fucking womanly. She’s making a point. Has been making it, and I’ve been missing it, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t punched me for being stupid.
We’re both breathing hard, and she whispers my name. I jerk my attention from her nipples—can’t blame me, come on, they’re perfect—to her face.
“I’m not a kid,” she says softly.
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Mom by day and filthy romance writer by night, Ainsley is super grateful for caffeine, banana and blueberry muffins, and yoga pants.
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w York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.
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