“We really gonna do this, pretty girl?” I ask.
“Please,” she whimpers. I smirk down at her as I slowly slide inside of her. Deep in the back of my mind I’m chanting “I’m in, I’m in!” like a fucking virgin on prom night. Coincidentally, that was the first and last time since I’ve been here; but this time she’s not yelling at me to hold still and I’m not so nervous that I think we’re going to get caught. Though, like the last time, I’m still afraid of losing myself and coming way too soon.
With her eyes fixed on mine, we don’t break contact. Her lips are parted, pert little mouth forming an “O” shape. Again, I feel smug, empowered. I pull out slowly. Her chest starts to shake. I’m thinking she’s close to coming again. I’m thinking I’m that good; but then it happens. She starts to laugh. Not a giggle. Not a small chuckle. She bursts out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. You have got to be kidding me.
“Are you laughing at me?” I ask, annoyed. I slam back into her, causing her laughter to break and a moan to escape. It only lasts a moment before her laughter turns to a giggle.
“Brad,” she says all serious, “We’re having sex.” And for some reason, that is funny; and I start laughing, too. This is probably the worst attempt at having sex in the history of mankind, but it’s fitting, it’s us. If ever there was a way to mess up sex, we would be the ones to figure it out.
My rhythm falters as I try to maintain some semblance of sexiness; but I’m pretty sure that went out the window when I nearly fell on top of her. Eventually our laughter dies down, giving way to panting and moaning. Our bodies are slick with sweat. We will need to shower after this; I just hope it’s together.
I switch between the gentle thrusts and hammering into her. Her body is responding and I know it won’t be long until she’s on the brink again. Her hips raise to meet mine, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin is sending me over the edge.
“Come for me, pretty girl,” I say in between ragged breaths. She directs my hand down to her clit and I massage it gently. Her back arches off the bed and all I can think to myself is… it actually worked. In those crap romance books that Lindsay reads, all I should have to do is to tell Colleen to cum and she’ll see fireworks. Romance books for the win.
“Not yet,” she whispers. What? Okay? I rub her clit a little harder, making her moan so loudly I think the neighbors might hear.
“Come for me, now, Colleen!” I say as I slam into her roughly. A few panting breaths and she regains her composure. With a raised eyebrow and smirk on her lips, she stares up at me, completely incensed.
“Are you serious right now?” And with that, my Colleen is back—snarky and irritable and so goddamn difficult. I think I actually missed this side of her.
“Yeah, come on,” I’m whining again, but I don’t care. I’m not going to last throughout this argument if she doesn’t fucking come soon. I swear, I’m going to be pissed at her if I embarrass myself. “Please, Colleen,” I grit my teeth, trying to hold myself off.
“It doesn’t work like that.” Her lips are pursed and she’s looking at me like I’m the biggest idiot on the face of the earth; which is very likely an accurate assessment.
“It does in those books that Lindsay reads,” I try to defend myself, barely able to speak as the heat begins to spread from my groin down to my toes.
“You’re really talking about Lindsay right now?” I slam into her, changing the angle that I’m entering her. That shuts her up immediately as she throws her head back and moans. My thrusts are rough and soon enough I can’t hold off any longer. My head drops into the crevice of her neck as my orgasm rips through me. Just as I think I’ve let her down, her body spasms beneath me. I’ve come down from my high just enough to watch her face as she loses control. It’s beautiful and unlike anything else I’ve seen.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
(Colleen)
To my face he defends me…
"FINALLY DECIDED TO treat your husband right, eh, pretty girl?" Brad says, lying on his side, facing me. I snort, feeling like I'm on a cloud. My body is heavy with exhaustion and for once my mind is clear. I'm not over-thinking this, I'm just enjoying it.
It hasn't escaped my attention that ever since I threw caution to the wind and accepted Brad's ridiculous marriage proposal that life has gotten much more interesting; and even when I have half a mind to choke him-- more fun.
And the sex—Holy hell, that was amazing. I had been so worried that if we ever had sex that it would change things between us. Prom night doesn't count. My poor virgin vagina was not ready for that; and it didn't help that neither Brad nor I really knew how to pleasure a woman, so there was no clitoral stimulation. We just kissed for a few minutes before attempting to have sex for the first time. That had been the only time until now that Bradley Patrick had been allowed anywhere near my poor, traumatized vagina. But damn, if I had known what I was missing out on, I would have hung on for dear life and let him go at it. Being a virgin himself, it likely wouldn't have lasted that long anyway.