Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(16)

“Warren, please . . .” she begins to protest. As soon as the word please leaves her mouth, my tongue slides against her, separating her. She lifts her hips several inches off the bed and cries out, so I grip her waist and pull her back down to the bed.

She’s sweet and salty and as soon as my mouth is against her, I’m convinced she could satiate every ounce of hunger I’ll feel for the rest of my life.

She cries out again, still trying to pull away from me. “What . . . God . . . Warren . . .”

I continue to lick her, devour her, run my tongue over every bare part of her so that I leave no inch of her untasted. Her hands find their way back to my hair just as my fingers find their way back inside of her. I’m filling her, consuming her with my tongue, and she’s taking every ounce of me she can get. She’s no longer trying to scoot away from me. Now she’s pressing my face into her, begging me to go faster.

Her hands leave my hair and meet her headboard as she grips it tightly and locks her legs around my shoulders. I keep my fingers buried inside of her as she cries out my name with each tremor that racks her body. I continue to please her until her shudders subside and her moans fade into silence.

I kiss the inside of her thigh as I pull my fingers out of her. I kiss all the way up her stomach until I’m pressed against her again, wanting to slide inside of her and stay the night.

I want to kiss her, but I don’t know if she’d want that. Some girls prefer not to be kissed afterward, but my mouth is aching with a need to feel her lips against mine.

Apparently she wants the same thing, because she doesn’t even hesitate when she pulls my face to hers and kisses me with a moan. There’s so much pressure in every inch of my body, because I want to take her again. The only thing that can relieve that pressure is to push into her, which is exactly what I do.

She lifts her hips and meets my thrusts and I know I should stop. I have to stop.

I don’t know why I can’t stop.

I’ve never been inside a girl without a condom before, but she makes me stupid. She renders my conscience useless, and all I can think about is how incredible she feels.

And also how much I need to stop.

Stop, Warren. Stop.

I somehow pull out of her and press my face against her chest, gasping for air.

It hurts. God, it hurts. I live in the next room, where there’s a drawer full of condoms, but I’m not sure I’d make it that far if I tried to stand.

She pulls my face back to hers and presses her lips to mine. She slides her hands down to my lower back and she pulls me against her, pressing her warmth against me as she urges me to move with her.

She feels incredible. It’s not the same as being inside her, but the way she’s moving against me feels pretty damn close. I close my eyes and bury my face against her neck as I work to increase the pace between us.

I grab a fistful of her hair and tilt her face to mine as I look down on her, watching as we both grow nearer to yet another release. She winces and I feel the first of her shudders pass through her. “Warren,” she whispers. “Kiss me.”

I do.

I cover her mouth with mine and drown out her moans with my own as I feel the warmth of my release spread between us. I’m holding her as tight as I can, kissing her as hard as I can.

All my weight is against her now that I’m physically incapable of holding myself up for another second. Her hands slide from my neck and fall to the bed. I’m too weak to speak, or I would be telling her how amazing she is. How good she feels. How perfect her body is and how she just single-handedly got the upper hand for all of eternity.

I can’t speak, though. My eyes fall shut from pure exhaustion.

Pure, blissful exhaustion.

• • •

“Warren.”

I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. Or I just don’t want to. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced as deep of a sleep as the one I’m being torn from right now.

Her hand is on my shoulder and she’s shaking me. I lift my head and turn to face her, curious if she’s ready for another round. I smile at her through sleepy eyes.

“Go to your room,” she says, kicking me with her feet. “You’re snoring.”

My eyes fall shut again but they fly open when her cold feet meet my stomach. She uses the strength of her legs to try and push me out of her bed. “Go,” she groans. “I can’t sleep.”

I somehow push myself into a standing position. I look down at her and she rolls onto her stomach, flips her pillow over, and sprawls out across her mattress.

I shuffle my way across her bedroom, through our bathroom and to my own bed. I fall onto it and close my eyes, taking all of three seconds to fall right back to sleep.

Chapter Six

I’m convinced that I’ve never slept as well as I did last night. And even though she kicked me out of her bed, I still feel victorious. Like royalty.

After I’m showered and dressed, I join Ridge in the kitchen. He’s cleaning up what looks like breakfast, which is odd, because neither of us ever cooks breakfast. But then I understand when Maggie emerges from his room.

“Morning, Maggie,” I say to her with a smile.

She eyes me cautiously. “What’s with you?”

Right at that moment, Bridgette’s bedroom door opens. We all watch her walk into the living room. She pauses when she looks up and sees us all staring at her.