Page 74 of Crazy Thing
But that’s a problem for another day. Right now, my main concern is how much longer I can hold back from screaming this man’s name.
“God, Ziggy. You’re so damn tight. You’re squeezing the fuck out of me.” His pace slows slightly. “Am I being too rough? Am I hurting you?” he asks, his hair falling into his worried eyes as he pumps into me.
My hands on his ass urge him on. “No. Hell no. So good. Don’t stop. Please.”
“Shit. You’re so fucking sexy. Especially when you’re begging for me.” He ruts deeper, picking up speed. He drills into me. My tits shake rhythmically with his every thrust. My teeth clatter. My bones shake.
In all the madness, his fingers find my clit.
“Darius!” I shout, the bus rocking from the force of the wind outside.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, but he already knows the answer. “I can feel the heat of your wet pussy. The way you’re hugging my cock. I know you’re close.”
“I am. I’m so close.” The confession is a pathetic whimper. “Fuck me. Get me there.”
His hands slide beneath my ass. He angles my pelvis just right. And he bears down. He shows no mercy, jackhammering without restraint.
When his fingers move to my clit again, plucking and stroking, it’s all over for me.
“Yes, yes. Like that,” I cry out as the wave crashes into me, knocking me into oblivion.
I see twinkly fireflies all around me. I see fluttering butterfly wings in a rainbow of colors. And I scream.
Darius holds me tightly, pressing our bodies together and he ruts like he’s completely lost control.
Soon, I feel him go rigid and he holds me even tighter, letting out a low, primal sound as he empties and empties some more.
When our roaring orgasms have subsided, we collapse side by side, struggling to breathe.
Darius flings a forearm over his eyes, his chest rising and falling violently. I feel the shudder that moves through his body. “Yeah…that was definitely more than sex.” Rolling over, he reaches for me.
Maybe it’s love, a voice whispers from somewhere at the back of my mind. Panicked, I pretend not to hear it.
Instead, I hastily fling my legs over the side of the sofa bed. “I need to pee.”
30
ZIGGY
I’m still trying to catch my breath as I splash water on my cheeks and stare at myself in the narrow mirror.
Oh my god. I just had the best hot sweaty sex. Ever. With Darius Brighton.
I pinch myself to make sure it’s real.Ouch!I flinch at the sharp pain of my fingernails biting into my palm.
The flush staining my clavicle is real. That hickey on my collarbone is real. The deep, satisfying ache between my thighs? Real.
I feel a little grin creeping across my face. Darius Brighton made me see the stars, right here inside my tiny mobile home.
Oh lord—what is wrong with me?
This man is my opposite in every way. We have nothing in common. And I just let him into my home—my sanctuary—and had sex with him.
I look around me for something to cover myself with, but there’s nothing in here. Not even a T-shirt or a bath towel. Shit—now, I have to do the walk of shame across my 28-foot school bus in the buff.
I guess this is my karma for being an idiot.
But on the bright side, Darius is probably already gone. I’d bet he bolted across the yard, back to his mega-mansion, the second I shut myself in the bathroom. He’s gotten his rocks off and now, he’ll go back to looking down on me as the weird hippie girl. We’ll go back to our version of ‘normal’. The strange thing is, I take comfort in that.
