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Authors: Linda Kage
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like warm butter. Not one to pass up a golden opportunity, he caught her already-sagging ponytail and tugged it loose. In reward, a mass of auburn brown hair spilled into his hands. Flowing through his fingers like silk, it pooled around them.
He groaned, realizing his prophesy about burying his hands in her hair had come true. Holy shit, this was honestly happening. Willow DeVane was kissing him. Her soft lips pressed flush against his and her talented, wet tongue slid erotically over his teeth. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her hot center scorched through his jeans, teasing his erection as if begging him to come out and play. The entire situation brought on a whole new meaning to wet dreams coming true.
Marveling in the moment, he ditched her hair to run his fingers over her body, to feel her warm skin. Experimentally, he started with her arm, using his thumb to caress the softest inner part of her bicep. When she shivered and moaned, pressing closer, he went a little further, slipping his touch to the sides of her ribs to cup her waist.
She ground herself against him, and his grip tightened reflectively around her hips, urging her administrations until she was dry humping him. Raith must've hit a sensitive spot because suddenly she gasped and pulled back.
He opened his lids, bracing for her to return to her senses and fly off him in appalled realization. But she merely looked down at him, her big brown eyes wide like a startled doe.
"What are you... Oh God." She flung her head back and groaned low and long. His body moved instinctively, arching up against her warmth, seeking relief. "Wait... how... I can't even stand you, Malloy." She panted as she curled her fingers around his shoulders and held on for dear life.
Sweat beaded on his upper lip and popped out along his brow. "And here, I've been hopelessly in love with you for the past two years," he wheezed even as he slid his hands down, unable to stop touching. She was so soft. So smooth.
She started to frown at him for his smart-ass retort, but at the edge of her shorts, he found warm skin and slid his palm up the back of her thighs until all ten fingers dived up into her shorts, under her underwear where he cupped her bare, taut globes. Her glare dissolved into a glazy-eyed gasp.
"So we hate each other," he clarified, massaging the soft, heated flesh. "Want me to stop?"
She squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to clear her head and think rationally. All the while, his hands took on a mind of their own. His fingers slithered along until he found heaven.
Dipping her face back down to his, she kissed him with a renewed urgency that almost had him coming undone. She bit his bottom lip, bringing tears to his eyes when she gripped his hair.
"Malloy," she gasped. "Oh, my God."
"I want you. I want you. Now. Please, please don't say no."
Later, he would bang his head against a wall for begging, but at the moment, he would do anything—say anything—just for a little more. This was his dream, his ultimate fantasy, becoming a reality. He didn't care how much trash talk she might give him afterward, all he wanted was to be inside her.
It was a miracle upon miracles that she didn't laugh in his face and say, "Nice try, Malloy," in that cool, dry voice of hers and then oh, so casually crawl off him as if she would rather bed down with red ants.
No. All she did was tug off his shirt and rasp, "Hurry."
Following her lead, he stripped her top and had to pause when her high, rounded breasts bounced into view. "Mother of God," he groaned. Mouth already watering for a taste, he curled his fingers around her ribs and tugged her down, fitting his teeth over a ripe nipple.
He kneaded one with his
He groaned, realizing his prophesy about burying his hands in her hair had come true. Holy shit, this was honestly happening. Willow DeVane was kissing him. Her soft lips pressed flush against his and her talented, wet tongue slid erotically over his teeth. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her hot center scorched through his jeans, teasing his erection as if begging him to come out and play. The entire situation brought on a whole new meaning to wet dreams coming true.
Marveling in the moment, he ditched her hair to run his fingers over her body, to feel her warm skin. Experimentally, he started with her arm, using his thumb to caress the softest inner part of her bicep. When she shivered and moaned, pressing closer, he went a little further, slipping his touch to the sides of her ribs to cup her waist.
She ground herself against him, and his grip tightened reflectively around her hips, urging her administrations until she was dry humping him. Raith must've hit a sensitive spot because suddenly she gasped and pulled back.
He opened his lids, bracing for her to return to her senses and fly off him in appalled realization. But she merely looked down at him, her big brown eyes wide like a startled doe.
"What are you... Oh God." She flung her head back and groaned low and long. His body moved instinctively, arching up against her warmth, seeking relief. "Wait... how... I can't even stand you, Malloy." She panted as she curled her fingers around his shoulders and held on for dear life.
Sweat beaded on his upper lip and popped out along his brow. "And here, I've been hopelessly in love with you for the past two years," he wheezed even as he slid his hands down, unable to stop touching. She was so soft. So smooth.
She started to frown at him for his smart-ass retort, but at the edge of her shorts, he found warm skin and slid his palm up the back of her thighs until all ten fingers dived up into her shorts, under her underwear where he cupped her bare, taut globes. Her glare dissolved into a glazy-eyed gasp.
"So we hate each other," he clarified, massaging the soft, heated flesh. "Want me to stop?"
She squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to clear her head and think rationally. All the while, his hands took on a mind of their own. His fingers slithered along until he found heaven.
Dipping her face back down to his, she kissed him with a renewed urgency that almost had him coming undone. She bit his bottom lip, bringing tears to his eyes when she gripped his hair.
"Malloy," she gasped. "Oh, my God."
"I want you. I want you. Now. Please, please don't say no."
Later, he would bang his head against a wall for begging, but at the moment, he would do anything—say anything—just for a little more. This was his dream, his ultimate fantasy, becoming a reality. He didn't care how much trash talk she might give him afterward, all he wanted was to be inside her.
It was a miracle upon miracles that she didn't laugh in his face and say, "Nice try, Malloy," in that cool, dry voice of hers and then oh, so casually crawl off him as if she would rather bed down with red ants.
No. All she did was tug off his shirt and rasp, "Hurry."
Following her lead, he stripped her top and had to pause when her high, rounded breasts bounced into view. "Mother of God," he groaned. Mouth already watering for a taste, he curled his fingers around her ribs and tugged her down, fitting his teeth over a ripe nipple.
He kneaded one with his
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