“Don’t stop,” her voice told me.
And because I was sad, pathetic, and three sheets to the wind, I pulled her lips back to mine as I let my hand drift further.
Inching the hem of her dress up, I slipped my hand inside. Her thigh was creamy as I glided up it.
Perfect.
“So fucking perfect,” I breathed out against her lips.
“Touch me, Malcolm.”
My thumb grazed over her panties only to find that they were soaked with need.
The devil was there, hanging just over my shoulder. He taunted me with his whispers in my ear, telling me to take.
Take.
Take.
Take.
I did not deserve to touch her. But I was convinced that this wasn’t real.
So I did. I touched. I took.
As I slid her panties to the side, I found that she was dripping for me. My fingers easily slid through her folds. Her body shuddered against me as my thumb lightly flicked over her swollen clit. I did it again and again, listening to her little pants become louder in the air around me.
My finger slipped into her pussy and I felt her clench around me instantly. She was so hot and tight.
“Don’t stop,” she told me again. “I want to feel what it’s like.”
I didn’t exactly know what she was trying to say at the moment but I was too far gone to ask. I wanted to give her this. I wanted to give her everything.
The heel of my palm worked her clit as I slowly slid another finger inside of her. Then her hips were working, rocking against me, with me.
Tiny nails bit into my biceps.
“Kiss me, Malcolm.”
My free hand threaded through her hair as I hungrily took her mouth. Our tongues tangled. Our lips melded. Our breaths became one.
Her body shook as I swallowed down the long moan that ripped from her throat. Her cream ran down my fingers as I slowed my pace and eased her back down.
“I never knew it could be like that,” her voice whispered and in my mind, I could hear the smile there. “Thank you, Malcolm.”
My eyes snapped open. The shock was clear on my face as I looked down into beautiful hazel eyes.
Reality slammed into me hard.
What had I done?
It wasn’t my alcohol soaked brain playing tricks on me.
No, Ingram was real. Right in front of me.
And I had just…
“Mal-Mouse?”
