I’d love filling her mouth with my dick and making her shut the fuck up.
I bet she’d like that.
Yeah, the flush on her skin told me she’d fucking love her mouth dripping with my come.
Her hair fell in messy waves down her back. Adelaide looked completely different—so entirely done with control and keeping herself back. She looked ready to be devoured and I was hungry for her lack of self-control, but I had to stay steady when she was imbalanced.
“We done talking?” Her eyes remained on my lips, and I couldn’t help it. This time I kissed her, and we pressed into each other. Kissing her was as simple as breathing but suffocating at thesame fucking time.
She moved into me, pressing herself to my crotch. “I found it hot,” she whispered against my lips. “When you wiped my lipstick off your lips and shook his hand.”
Fuck.
I twisted my hand in her hair and tugged it back. “I liked it better when you were quiet.”
Swollen lips glistened with the reminder of our make out session.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” she said with an indecent smile that made me want to bite the fucking attitude out of her.
Dropping my hold on her hair, I stepped back to breathe. She stood there, her chest easing with each heavy exhale. I rubbed my bottom lip, watching as she straightens out her messy hair and stares back at me like I didn’t know she was fucking dripping for me.
“Are you done giving me the silent treatment now?”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Since when does kissing mean I’m talking to you?”
“Responding to my question does.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, accentuating her fucking tits.
Look away. Look the fuck away.
“Wanting to fuck you doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.”
Your pussy says otherwise.
“Never knew swearing was in your vocabulary.”
“I can do a lot more if you keep pissing me off.”
“Please do,” I encouraged with a tilt to my brow.
I wanted to see her come undone in more ways than physical. When the person you liked kept silent for a monthit wasn’t torture—it was fucking death and this slow death hadn’t reached my heart yet. It travelled up my body, starting with the other organs, my bones, my veins, then stopped while I suffered with this undiagnosable illness that itches every space on me. I couldn’t do anything but survive off the crumbs of her existence which was her scent, her remaining presence left behind, the quick glances I took from the top of the stairs while she drank her coffee or the cereal milk out of the bowl.
Adelaide was the remaining page in my story with words from another world. If this was how I’d get to listen to her voice—from pure fucking banter—then I’d take it.
She leaned back against the door. Looking every ounce of the goddess she was. Curves clung to her dress as she watched me shatter in her presence. My fists clenched and unclenched—begging to move towards her but my feet dug themselves into the ground—into the quicksand I stood in.
“This could go one of two ways, Adelaide.”
She lifted her chin.
“We can talk about this like mature adults.”
“Which you aren’t,” she added.
“Or I canfuckyou against the door and leave you at the exact moment you’re about to come.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t do that.”
