The Dugout(67)

“Ask me a question so we can move this little touching game along.” I pinch her nipple and her chest lifts off the bed, her mouth falling open in surprise.

“Carson,” she breathes. “Play . . . nice.”

“No way in hell. Your hand is so fucking close to my cock, teasing the shit out of me, that I’m going to make sure you get the same torturous but amazing treatment. Ask away.”

Her smile is pained, but in a good way. “It’s actually your turn to ask me a question.”

“Oh fuck.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Okay, uh . . . favorite color. Go ahead, touch me.”

She laughs and the sound hits me hard in the chest, sending a wave of heat through my bones. So sweet, so hearty, so fucking beautiful.

“You can’t ask a simple question, it has to be thought-provoking.”

“That’s thought-provoking,” I strain out. “So many fucking colors, so hard to answer. Take your time and feel free to use my dick as a thinking stick.”

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“I’m desperate,” I say, my voice cracking. “Fuck, Milly. I don’t think you have any idea how much lying next to you, practically naked, touching me, is affecting me. I’m seconds away from losing my cool and pinning you to this bed.”

She nibbles on her lip and quietly says, “That wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” Her fingers move lower and connect with the head of my cock, eliciting a long, slow hiss from me.

Holy.

Shit.

She touched my dick, just touched it, and now there’s a strong, forceful throb beating up and down my body.

“Milly,” I grind out. “Answer the question.”

Detecting the agony I’m going through, she takes her time but doesn’t leave me hanging. Her index finger makes the softest pass over the tip of my cock, back and forth, back and forth. My cock jumps and twitches under her touch, begging for more.

“I guess you’re right, but this is a hard question to answer.”

Her finger circles the head. And my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“I mean, there are so many different shades.”

Her thumb falls to the underside of my cock and very lightly presses against a throbbing vein, lowering with its length. The sensation is too fucking much as she passes over a sensitive spot, causing my hips to buck up, pressing my cock directly into her hand.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Christ. My hips rock against her hand. “Shit, Mills.”

In an instant, her fingers wrap around my length, and she squeezes so hard that I groan loudly. I’m actually nervous the other girls on the floor will think there’s a feral wolf in Milly’s room.

“Green, I think it’s green.”

“The fuck if I care,” I say, right before bringing my hand to her cheek and capturing her lips with mine. I crash our mouths together. There’s no finesse involved. It’s raw and not even close to pretty, but I need this woman.

I’ve felt like I haven’t been able to have her for so long, that she was a distant dream I’d never capture and now that she’s here, that I can actually call her mine, I’m lacking coordination as my hips thrust with her hand.

I need to slow down.

I need to gain control over my frenzied hormones but when her hand slips to my balls and tugs on them lightly, I nearly pop straight out of my pants.

“Fuck,” I groan while reaching down and pushing my pants and briefs to my knees, giving her better access. Still on our sides, she slows her movement and her grip, stroking me still, but torturing me with the pressure.

I take that moment to reciprocate the favor. I glide my hands from her face down her body, to the juncture between her legs. I feel her through her panties.

Jesus Christ. She’s really fucking wet.

There’s no stopping me when I move her cheekies down her legs and then lift her top leg so she’s completely exposed. She holds herself there as I bring my hand to her pussy. I test her out with a light swipe across her clit and when she moans into my mouth, I bring two fingers to her sensitive nub and start playing with it, loving how turned on she is.

She wasn’t lying.

Together, we play with each other. Increasing speed, pressure, taking it away and keeping our mouths tied together the entire time. In tandem, we bring each other to the precipice of orgasm, our moans mixing together, our groans tangling, our pleasure wrapping into one.

It takes seconds before both of us are clawing at each other, her hand working my cock so fast that I fear I’m going to come before her, so I slip two fingers inside her while applying pressure to her clit with my thumb. The movement has her jerking forward and her mouth falling from mine.

Her body stiffens beneath mine, and the most beautiful moan I’ve ever heard falls past her lips. Her grip loosens on my cock for a second before she realizes I’m on the precipice of falling over with her, and then she strokes me harder than before.

Once.

Twice.

Oh fuck . . .

Three times and I’m coming, my head falling to the crook of her shoulder where I bite down on her skin, as my orgasm rips through me.

It feels like a cannon went off in my body, and all the pent-up anger, anxiety, and nerves are released, sending me into a euphoric state, a place I never want to leave.

When I come to, my breathing evening out, I look up at her and realize I left bite marks on her shoulder.