Page 8 of Obsessed

6OliI could have said this was wrong, that maybe I was taking advantage of the situation, but there was no denying Bryn wanted me. She was in my house, both of us here alone, her sexy-as-fuck little body in that red dress that had my balls drawing up, my dick harder than iron, and my blood racing.

It also had me jealous as hell knowing she’d worn this in front of all those motherfuckers at the fight.

They were looking at her, checking her out, thinking about being with her.

I felt my hands tighten around her, pulled her impossibly closer, kissed her harder.

She’s mine.

Possessiveness claimed me, knowing she wore it for me, knowing no other person would know what she felt like. Because I won't allow it.

I kissed her like I was possessed. And I am. Always for her. Only for her.

Her body language, the change in her breathing, the way her nipples were hard… her fucking blown-out pupils. They all told me she wanted me. I had no doubt if I slipped my hand under this slinky little red dress she wore, she’d be wet, those panties soaked for me.

A part of me said she better be fucking wearing panties. Because the thought that a little slip, a light breeze, hell, her falling down like she had, would have had any bastard in that basement seeing her pussy… was enough to have me ready to murder someone.

But on that same token, knowing she might be bare under there—for me—had my dick painfully hard.

As soon as she told me she had worn it for me, I’d felt that wire snap in me, the one that kept my self-restraint under fucking control. I’d taken a shower to wash off the sweat and blood from the fight, because what I planned to do with Bryn tonight, I didn't want that violence covering my body and getting on her.

We’d make our own sweat.

I was a dirty bastard for grinding my cock against her. She gasped for me, and I swallowed the sound, kissing her harder. I stroked my tongue along her lips, pushed it inside, made her take me. I’d be doing the same thing between her legs as I fed her my cock, gave her every single inch of me. There was no stopping this now. The floodgates had been opened, and damn the consequences.

I tore my mouth from hers and breathed out so harshly that’s all I heard. I walked her backward until she was pressed against the wall, and while staring into her eyes, I grated out, “I have to know.” I didn’t elaborate. She’d know what I meant any second now. I yanked the hem of her dress up, her eyes widened, glossy, her lips parted and red from my kiss. I shoved my hand between her legs, smoothed a finger over her pussy, and groaned when she made a little sound of pleasure because of my touch.

I closed my eyes and swallowed. She wore panties, tiny cotton ones that were soaked. Her heat singed, and I moved that digit up and down her slit, pushing the material gently between her folds, feeling how engorged her clit was.


What the fuck am I doing?

I was finally claiming what was mine.

I knew I should have gone slow. There was no fucking doubt in my mind my girl was untouched, a virgin. But I couldn’t control myself, and like a lewd bastard, I leaned in so close our lips almost touched, and murmured, “Anyone ever touch you like this, Bryn?” I heard the hitch in her breath, felt her body heat rise and slam into me. I added a little pressure to that little pussy of hers, urging her to answer me without asking again.

“N-No,” she whispered.

My other hand was on the wall by her head, and I gnashed my teeth again at hearing her confirmation of what I already knew.

“So this tiny pussy still has that sweet cherry.” I shouldn’t have talked so dirty. She was innocent, but seeing the way my words affected her, how I felt her panties get wetter, told me she liked it. And now I couldn’t stop.

She didn’t actually say the words, but she nodded, her eyes locked on mine.

“Why haven't you let any of those little asshole high school boys touch you?” There was only one right answer to this question. While I waited for her to tell me, I kept running my finger up and down her slit, adding the smallest amount of pressure to her clit before skirting away. She made little noises in the back of her throat, and I wondered if she realized she was gently pressing down on my hand, seeking more from me. It took her a second, but then she told me what I wanted.

“Because I only want you.”

I growled and slammed my mouth on hers, kissing her brutally, viciously. My passion for her was intense, and when she curled her hands around my biceps, rose on her toes, and kissed me back, all my control snapped.

Tags: Jenika Snow Romance