The Failing Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #2)(63)

“What is this smell?”

“I-I…”

“Do you put perfume on this shit? It’s like pussy crack.”

Oh god, that horrible word is turning me on.

“It…it’s b-baby pow…derrrr,” I moan. My neck thrashes on the mattress, head thrown back, lips hissing when he finally stops licking long enough to suck my clit. “Baby powder.”

“This baby powder-covered sweet spot is fucking amazing,” he says, burying his face and sucking hard. “Mmm…”

His hand drifts, sinking into my pelvis, applying pressure.

My toes curl.

My spine tingles.

“Yes…yes…right there, oh yes…” I’m loud and I don’t care.

Zeke hums into me as my legs instinctively spread farther apart.

The orgasm builds, starting in my…e-e-everywhere…

The orgasm is everywhere, every cell inside me shot up with sparks. My nerves buzz. Quiver. Ache.

Vibrate.

I moan and moan and moan until I’m finally, “C-Coming, oh god, I’m coming…”





Zeke



Violet comes in my mouth—hard—swollen clit throbbing against my tongue as I suck it to a climax. She smells so good. So fucking good I could eat her out all night, over and over again, the amount of intensity I’m feeling indescribable. Surreal.

Having her in my bed, under me.

The taste of her cum, fresh on my mouth? Delicious.

Blonde hair spread across my pillows, she’s pale on every part of her body, excluding the spots where she’s blushing—those are rosy, pink, and ten different shades of peach.

The contrast of her porcelain flesh against my black bed sheets is stark; she looks like an angel lying here.

A pretty angel I want to stick my dick in and fuck.

I rise to my knees. Bend my head to suck on one of her tits, earning me a moan so throaty it gives me pause. Lips puffy from my mouth, eyes glazed over from her orgasm, I flick her nipple with my tongue and blow, the cool air making it pucker, stiff as my swollen cock.

She watches me stroke it, the widest eyes I’ve ever seen. I move to retrieve a condom from the bedside table.

I fucking hate these things.

Nonetheless, I tear it open, toss the wrapper over my shoulder, and slide that motherfucker on, teeth dragging across my bottom lip.

Her hazel eyes are glassed over and she nods, arching her back and rubbing her small breasts against my chest.

“Once we do this, you can’t go back.” This is me you’re about to sleep with, I want to add. Not some sensitive dude who’s going to lavish affection on you afterward. I sure as shit am not a cuddler.

“Stop talking,” she demands. “Stop talking and screw me already.”

Whoa. Holy shit.

“Do you like dirty talk, Violet?”

“I don’t know,” she blushes. “Say something dirty.”

I hesitate and look down at her. Her giant hazel eyes regard me, so soft and pretty as my dick rubs against her slit, that halo of wholesomeness surrounding her head giving me pause.

Words lodge in my throat that won’t come out.

Say something dirty, say something dirty, say something dirty…

Shit, what the hell is wrong with me? Why aren’t my lips moving?

“Zeke?”

Her hips wiggle beneath me, causing friction against my straining cock.

I’ll give it to her dirty, all right, just not…

Yet.

Not yet.

This is the first girl I’ve felt anything for, if you don’t include the anger I feel toward my mother, and I don’t want to ruin it by spewing any nasty shit.

What we’re about to do feels so right and wrong at the same damn time, and yet here we are, about to cross this finish line. One I swore I would never cross, lest someone expect things I don’t know how to give.

Violet stares up at me now, trusting. Aroused. Sated.

Sexy.

Ready.

I hover above her, bracing my forearms on the pillows. Slide forward. I’m going to push my dick forward and fuck her like the NCAA champion I am.

Skin against skin. Cock against clit.

I reach down and give it a few short strokes, run my hand down her hip. Between her legs.

She’s wet, the soft curls between her legs making me harder than I was before. Jesus, the fucking curls—I haven’t fucked anyone with hair on their pussy in years. It’s a harsh reminder of how inexperienced she is.

I spread her with my thumb, rubbing my latex-covered cock up and down the slit in her pussy, pressing forward tentatively. I slide in a fraction at a time, a slow building moan rising inside my chest.

A test in self-control.

This slow burn is killing me; I want to plow into her so damn bad, it’s physically painful.

She’s so tight.

“You’re not going to break me, Zeke. J-Just do it already.”

I shake my head, sweat beading on my brow.

No.

No, I’m not just going to do it already.

Determined to take my time, I inhale a breath, counting like we do in wrestling. Counting like I do when I’m lifting. Counting like I do when— “Don’t move, please,” I demand into her pouty pink mouth. “Please. Jesus, baby, don’t move.”