I gasped at the sensation of him filling me, and he heard this as encouragement, pushing further and further, thrusting until his h*ps ground against my body, hardness on softness.
He found a rhythm, supporting his upper body on bent arms popping with muscles. I kissed one bicep and then the other.
He eased down a ways, withdrawing partially to curl down and lick my nipple. He flicked the firm knob of flesh with his tongue, while at the same time he teased my honey out with the tip of his cock.
Sensation radiated from my breast, and I writhed on the bed, my whole body a sensitive, jiggling embodiment of desire.
He mouthed my breast hungrily, as though trying valiantly to fit the entire mound in his mouth, and then he turned his attention to the other.
His fingers crept down the hollows between us and sought my pink nub, deep within its pillowy folds. He stroked me up and down with his fingers, and as I arched my back, he thrust into me, sending ripples of pleasure all the way to my ears, burning with heat.
“Why don’t you get on top?” he murmured.
“I like where I am.” I grabbed my knee with one hand and helped pull my leg up, allowing him deeper penetration.
He groaned and closed his eyes. The moisture on his forehead wasn’t from the shower, but new—sweat. His c**k was rigid, like a kinked hose under pressure, and the muscles along the side of his neck were tense and visible.
“Fill me up,” I said, and he started moving again.
The thrusting was slow at first, then built up with the pressure inside me. His fingers were on my clit, adding pressure to the friction of my skin pulled taut from the girth of him.
He rocked into me steadily, and again he implored me to roll with him and go on top for a bit. I declined, insisting he do all the work, since he was so good at it.
The movement of his fingers began distracting me rather than pleasuring me, so I pulled his hand away.
“Is that it for you?” he asked.
I nodded. “Go ahead.”
He withdrew suddenly, and I instantly felt terrible, so disappointed in myself.
But he wasn’t done with me.
He grabbed my legs and yanked me down on the bed, so my h*ps were at the foot of the bed and my feet on the carpet.
Then he balanced himself on his fists, on either side of my face, and thrust into me, high and hard. The way his c**k rubbed against me sent new shivers of pleasure through my body. This was new. A pressure grew.
He looked me in the eyes, his forehead shining and expression intense.
He was bigger than anyone I’d been with, and I had no idea what it would feel like to have a man touch me so deep inside. As he moved through undiscovered territory, I shuddered with a pleasure that seemed to come from my tailbone. It was a different sensation than his gorgeous lips and tongue on my clit. Even more personal.
Hard and fast, gliding easily on my body’s reaction, he sought me out. I had nowhere to hide, and when I closed my eyes, I saw his face. Opening. I was opening to him, and that scared me.
With each thrust, he got bigger and harder, until at last he closed his eyes, bit his lower lip, and turned his head to the side, touching his chin to his shoulder.
A small cry escaped his lips as he came, shaking inside me.
I realized my feet were no longer on the carpet, but on the bed, and I’d been lifting my lower body, raising my h*ps to meet him.
I eased myself back down to the bed, catching my breath. He pulsed deep inside me, holding me in the hotel room with him, nowhere to escape, not even the back corners of my mind.
He reached between us and squeezed the skin above my clit. It felt good, really good, but I wasn’t going to come, so I pushed his hand away. “Maybe next time,” I said.
He let out his breath all at once and collapsed down onto me, snaking his damp arms behind my back in a hug.
“You made me need another shower,” he said.
His head was nestled next to my neck as I glanced over at the motel room door.
The door.
It was right there, and I could just go. Nut Hill wasn’t far from my house on Lurch Street, and the walk was mostly downhill.
“How about you go hit the shower before the rematch?” I said boldly.
“How about you come join me?”
“Sure. Go get the water started.”
He pulled away, though the musky smell of him remained on me, all down my front like a tattoo.
CHAPTER 13
Once Dalton Deangelo was in the bathroom with the water on, I got dressed faster than anyone has gotten dressed in the Nut Hill Motel, and I’m sure there’ve been some speedy exits.
I was still buttoning up my olive green shirt when I reached for the door handle. I glanced over at the little desk in the room, next to the chair where I’d tossed the towel. There was stationery sitting out on the desk.
My heart was pounding, my nerves telling me to run, just run, so I ran to the desk and scrawled a quick note:
Thanks for the fun. Have to work early. Want to sleep in my own bed.
I could hear Dalton calling me from inside the shower, and it broke my heart to open that door and leave, but it was the right thing to do.
I had to get far away from him, and all these confusing feelings that bubbled up in me whenever he was in my arms.
My running shoes slapped against the second floor balcony outside, the impact of my footsteps ringing through the night air with a metallic clang.
CLANG CLANG CLANG.
I ran down the metal stairs and away from the motel, down the street.
Then I stopped running, because that much running when you’re not used to it is going to make a girl throw up. I learned that lesson during the annual Fitness Test at high school.
I gasped over some bushes, my hands on my knees. Something moved out of the corner of my eye, and I worried it would be Dalton, running after me in a towel, or stark naked.
I peered into the darkness. Someone was definitely there, watching me. Not Dalton, but I could feel their presence.
“Hello?” I called out.
I stood in the alley that ran behind the motel, near the end of the block. To one side was the back of an office building, and to the other side was someone’s back yard and garage.
As my eyes adjusted in the darkness, I could just make out shapes moving in the back yard of the house. Dogs? I squinted, willing my eyeballs to work better. Cats?
The shapes turned and looked at me with curiosity.
If there’s one thing that gives me the willies even worse than dragonflies, it’s raccoons.
Two of them were ambling toward me, hell-bent on giving me rabies, for sure!
I started running again, and I travelled the dozen blocks back to my house by alternating between jogging and walking quickly while wheezing.