Read Online Afire: Entire Blinded Series by Sarah Masters - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sarah Masters
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makes me whole somehow, and I have the absurd urge to cry.
Stupid bastard .
Ryan steps backward, leading me to the bed, and we flop down, a lattice of arms and legs. I shift onto my side, Ryan doing the same, and our new discovery begins. Hands roam, fingertips featherlight, palms skating across dips and swells, breaths heavy and ragged. I squirm, wanting to capture every emotion, every movement at once, but there's too much going on. Lips brush, tongues lick, and sweat drips. I imagine later times, when we're experienced enough to ease our cocks into hot, tight sheaths, and a groan-laden gasp leaves me panting, unable to imagine the intensity our future fucks will hold.
His tongue laves a path along my collarbone and up my neck. Warm breath tickles my ear, the sound of it so loud it drowns out my thudding pulse and the rasping of hands over skin. I close my eyes and curve my groin up, pushing my cock into his, loving the hardness.
A shift of air whispers over me, and a gasp fills the room followed by a high-pitched scream. I jerk away from Ryan, almost falling off the bed, my eyes snapping open to see his face in profile, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, gaze fixed on the door.
Oh, fuck. Fuck!
I see her in my peripheral vision, hands cupped over her mouth, the darkness of the landing behind her. I jump off the bed at the same time as Ryan, scrambling for our clothes, anything to cover ourselves. As he slides his legs into his jeans, she starts railing.
"You filthy little bastard !” She's lit as though under a spotlight, staring at Ryan, hands fisted by her sides. Angry red splotches spread over her cheeks, joining to form one raging mask, and spittle sits at the corners of her mouth. “I knew it!"
She's fit to burst, and I'm scrabbling into my jeans, zipping up, reaching for a T-shirt from an open drawer. Christ, my heart's beating so fast it hurts, and I want to throw up. I glance from her to Ryan, who's dressed and shoving his feet into his Nikes, face flushed, his shaved head making him look like a ruffian. Someone to avoid.
My attention returns to Mum, hands on her hips now, mouth gaping open as though she's lost for words. Her speech isn't halted for long, and she raises one hand, finger pointing at Ryan.
"You'd better get the hell out of my house! How dare you come in here and turn my boy, leading him into your disgusting ways. Go on, get out!"
She jabs the air with her finger, the tip meeting Ryan's chest as he steps forward, stuffing his soiled boxers into his pocket. Springing back, she melts into the darkness of the landing, and for a moment it's like she was never there and Ryan's just leaving to go home. He glances back, and his face, my God, I don't ever want to see that stricken look again. Like he's saying sorry, that he's the cause of all this, that it's his fault. It isn't. It fucking isn't !
His footsteps recede as he goes down the stairs, and the front door closes quietly, my loud breaths superseding every other sound that remains. She fills the doorway again, eyes narrowed, and I stand beside my bed, the fear of childhood filling me.
"You!” She stalks into the room, standing inches from me. “You need to get in the bath. Wash his filth from you. Didn't I tell you? Wasn't it only earlier I told you what he was up to? What he was like? And you didn't believe it. Now look what's happened. You've allowed him to touch you, to... God, you disgust me. The pair of you! What will the neighbours say if this gets out? You can bet that pervert won't keep this quiet. Oh, I know what those types are like. He'll brag about his conquest, how he made you just like him, when you're not. No, this is just a blip. A bit of confusion, that's all.” She whittles her fingers then grips the hem of her fitted blue jacket.
A blip? A bit of confusion?
"No,” I say, turning from her to kneel beside the bed and pull my large holdall from beneath it. A brief memory of me and Ryan packing our clothes into it for a
Stupid bastard .
Ryan steps backward, leading me to the bed, and we flop down, a lattice of arms and legs. I shift onto my side, Ryan doing the same, and our new discovery begins. Hands roam, fingertips featherlight, palms skating across dips and swells, breaths heavy and ragged. I squirm, wanting to capture every emotion, every movement at once, but there's too much going on. Lips brush, tongues lick, and sweat drips. I imagine later times, when we're experienced enough to ease our cocks into hot, tight sheaths, and a groan-laden gasp leaves me panting, unable to imagine the intensity our future fucks will hold.
His tongue laves a path along my collarbone and up my neck. Warm breath tickles my ear, the sound of it so loud it drowns out my thudding pulse and the rasping of hands over skin. I close my eyes and curve my groin up, pushing my cock into his, loving the hardness.
A shift of air whispers over me, and a gasp fills the room followed by a high-pitched scream. I jerk away from Ryan, almost falling off the bed, my eyes snapping open to see his face in profile, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, gaze fixed on the door.
Oh, fuck. Fuck!
I see her in my peripheral vision, hands cupped over her mouth, the darkness of the landing behind her. I jump off the bed at the same time as Ryan, scrambling for our clothes, anything to cover ourselves. As he slides his legs into his jeans, she starts railing.
"You filthy little bastard !” She's lit as though under a spotlight, staring at Ryan, hands fisted by her sides. Angry red splotches spread over her cheeks, joining to form one raging mask, and spittle sits at the corners of her mouth. “I knew it!"
She's fit to burst, and I'm scrabbling into my jeans, zipping up, reaching for a T-shirt from an open drawer. Christ, my heart's beating so fast it hurts, and I want to throw up. I glance from her to Ryan, who's dressed and shoving his feet into his Nikes, face flushed, his shaved head making him look like a ruffian. Someone to avoid.
My attention returns to Mum, hands on her hips now, mouth gaping open as though she's lost for words. Her speech isn't halted for long, and she raises one hand, finger pointing at Ryan.
"You'd better get the hell out of my house! How dare you come in here and turn my boy, leading him into your disgusting ways. Go on, get out!"
She jabs the air with her finger, the tip meeting Ryan's chest as he steps forward, stuffing his soiled boxers into his pocket. Springing back, she melts into the darkness of the landing, and for a moment it's like she was never there and Ryan's just leaving to go home. He glances back, and his face, my God, I don't ever want to see that stricken look again. Like he's saying sorry, that he's the cause of all this, that it's his fault. It isn't. It fucking isn't !
His footsteps recede as he goes down the stairs, and the front door closes quietly, my loud breaths superseding every other sound that remains. She fills the doorway again, eyes narrowed, and I stand beside my bed, the fear of childhood filling me.
"You!” She stalks into the room, standing inches from me. “You need to get in the bath. Wash his filth from you. Didn't I tell you? Wasn't it only earlier I told you what he was up to? What he was like? And you didn't believe it. Now look what's happened. You've allowed him to touch you, to... God, you disgust me. The pair of you! What will the neighbours say if this gets out? You can bet that pervert won't keep this quiet. Oh, I know what those types are like. He'll brag about his conquest, how he made you just like him, when you're not. No, this is just a blip. A bit of confusion, that's all.” She whittles her fingers then grips the hem of her fitted blue jacket.
A blip? A bit of confusion?
"No,” I say, turning from her to kneel beside the bed and pull my large holdall from beneath it. A brief memory of me and Ryan packing our clothes into it for a
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