God, I love the sound of her voice, the sound of her moans, the way it’s so obvious that she’s giving into the situation almost in spite of herself.
We can’t get fully naked. If someone somehow comes into the master bedroom, we need to be able to straighten up fast. I reach underneath Harper’s dress and tug her panties down, and she lets them fall to her feet before stepping out of them.
At the same time, she’s unzipping my fly, reaching into my pants. She takes my cock out of my pants. Her hands are cool, but it might be that my cock is so hot for her. She wraps her delicate hand around it, and a shiver rushes up my spine.
I pull down the front of her dress and find she isn’t wearing a bra, a fact that somehow makes me even harder. It feels like there’s molten rock in the pit of my stomach, like my cock is full of liquid metal. I could come in an instant, but I don’t want to. I reach up between Harper’s legs and she’s every bit as wet, every bit as hot, as I have imagined since I saw her in her bedroom.
I slide my fingers along her folds and press into her slowly, finding her clit. Harper lets out a little cry, her hands tightening on me. We touch each other for what feels like an eternity, and she gets wetter and wetter, slickening my fingers. I’m struggling not to come in her hand as she strokes me.
“Here,” I say, pulling down my pants just enough to do what I need to. I sit on the wide ledge of my parents’ bathtub. Always prepared, I roll on a condom and pull Harper to me, and she gets what I have in mind immediately.
She smiles and parts her legs and sinks down onto me. She’s so tight, so hot and wet, wrapped around my throbbing, aching cock that I have to hold her absolutely still on top of me for about fifty beats of my heart to make sure I don’t hit my climax right away.
Harper begins to slowly rise and fall on me, her muscles flexing around my erection. I bury my face against her tits, nuzzling and licking and sucking without even really paying attention to what I’m doing. I rock my hips up to meet hers, pushing deeper and deeper inside of her as she rides me.
“God, I wish I could get you naked and bend you over my bed and just fuck you until you scream my name,” I tell Harper, grabbing at her hips, trying to push her down onto me harder and faster.
“It’s not… it’s not bad enough, screwing in your parents’ bathroom?” Harper sounds amused, and breathless, all at the same time. She kisses me again and again, and we might as well be a million miles away from the party.
I can’t hold out for long. All at once I’m holding her tight against me, pushing up with my hips hard and fast, slamming into her as instinct takes over. Harper buries her face against my shoulder to muffle the noises she’s making. If anyone came in right now they would absolutely and immediately know what we were doing.
I feel Harper’s body flexing around me in hard, fast spasms as she comes, and that’s all it takes. My cock explodes into the condom. I groan against her neck as one jolt of pleasure after another lights up my nervous system.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HARPER POLSEN
As the waves of orgasm lessen, a noise comes from the other side of the door. Someone is in the bedroom and immediately every last trace of calm leaves my body. I tense on top of Zane and my heart pounds in my chest in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with how much he turns me on.
“Shit,” I whisper.
Zane’s hands are tight on the small of my back, and both of us stare at each other, absolutely silent, both of us even hold our breaths, waiting to see what’s going on.
I hear a woman’s laugh just beyond the closed door, and I immediately recognize it as Bev’s. I close my eyes. I want to groan at how absolutely awkward this is, how completely inappropriate, but if I do that then both Zane and I will be discovered.
“It’s not rude to leave our guests, right?” I hear Bev saying, and the flirty note in her voice is enough for me to realize exactly what she’s talking about.
“I don’t care. It’s distracting as hell to have to chat about Harold’s golf game with this threatening to rip through my fly at any minute.”
My eyes fly open at the sound of Zane’s dad speaking and saying those words, and all at once it hits both of us — Zane’s parents are talking about having a quickie.
It’s weird and hilarious and absolutely mortifying all at the same time. I cover my mouth with my hand, pressing my fingers against my lips to stifle the sound of the irresistible giggles that I just can’t keep down. I’m trying too hard to stay silent, even as the laughter bubbles up, that I’m shaking on top of Zane like a cup full of Yahtzee dice. I realize that Zane is chuckling too, as quietly as he possibly can.