Written in the Scars(29)

Kneeling in front of her, I part her with one hand, putting pressure on her clit with my thumb. She gasps, knowing what’s coming and I smile up at her when she looks at me.

I lick her slowly, my flattened tongue soaking up every bit of sweetness I can find. Her hips roll against me, needing the friction that I’m deliberately withholding.

I dip my tongue into her, strumming small circles against her clit. Her moans fill the air, a straight shot to my dick.

Sliding my tongue up her slit again, I can feel her start to go off. I know from hundreds of times of doing this very same thing, she will explode if I touch her for much longer.

So I stop.

“Tyler,” she moans, grabbing my hair and attempting to force my face against her.

Smirking, I stand and wipe the wetness off my face with the back of my hand. “What, Elin?” I tease.

“You know what,” she groans, pulling me towards her.

I wrap my arms around her, each hand cupping her ass. Her mouth forms a perfect “o” at the contact, her body turning into putty. I knead her backside in my hands as I look into her eyes.

I lift her, letting her thighs rest on my forearms. I pin her back to the wall and her legs wrap around my waist like it’s an automatic response. I feel the heat rolling off her. The muscles in her legs clench as our bodies make real contact. She reaches down and palms my rock-solid length and guides it into her.

“Ah,” she moans, as the tip parts her. She bites her bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth. Her wetness coats me as I slide into her tightness. Her body squeezes my cock, her nails digging into my shoulder.

Beads of sweat pop on my forehead and I fight the urge just to slam into her. It feels too damn good. So fucking right.

Her skin glows in the low light, her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. Her hair now falling wildly over her shoulders and she presses her lips together and smirks.

“That all you got?” she asks.

“Oh,” I say, dragging my cock out and then pushing it roughly back in, making her yelp. “You want more?”

“Yes,” she breathes.

Readjusting her weight on my arms, feeling her nails tug at my skin and her legs cinch around me, I slam into her once more.

And again.

And again.

The pictures on the walls rattle, one next to the light switch falling to the floor. The sound of the glass breaking echoes down the hall, adding to the sound of our damp skin slapping against each other.

“Ty!” Her breasts bounce against my chest, her legs starting to shake. It’s sensory overload.

A full-body tremble rolls through me and I have a strong need to close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of her getting off on my cock, but I’m not about to miss a moment of this. Watching her come is the most spectacular event of my life.

Her lashes lie on her cheeks, her delicate lips falling open. Her chin tilts to the sky as she intakes a quick breath and moans the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

She tightens around me in every way, and I push into her as far as I can go and let myself fall over the edge with her. It’s an execution we’ve perfected.

“E,” I growl, feeling myself explode into her body.

“Ah,” she moans, letting her head fall forward on my shoulder.

Moving slowly inside of her, I milk her orgasm, drawing out the most pleasure for my girl. Her heartbeat thumps against me, eventually slowing and evening out right alongside mine.

I want to hold her in my arms forever, feel our naked bodies touch in every way. Damn, I’ve missed this. More than I even realized.

“I hate to do this,” I say, my voice shaking, “but I have to put you down.”

My arms feel like they’re full of lactic acid as I ease Elin to the floor. She doesn’t say anything, and when she’s on her feet, she doesn’t look at me.

Instead, she scurries to the end of the hallway and finds her t-shirt, my t-shirt, and slips it over her head.

“I thought you hated that shirt,” I joke, attempting to put some levity into the air that’s suddenly full of awkwardness. Pulling my jeans up and searching for my shirt, I can’t pry my eyes away from her.

“I do.”

“So why are you sleeping in it?”

She runs a hand through her tangled hair and looks at me. “I’m not sure. It was just the first one in the dresser.”

I know that’s a lie. She hides that shirt from me all the time because it’s so ratty. But I let her go with it.

Nodding, I get myself back together and feel the strange build between us. I hate it and scramble to find a way to fill the hallway with something else.

“What have you been up to?”

As soon as the question is out of my mouth, her brows shoot to the ceiling. “Really?”