Find Me (The Found Duet #2)(62)
Author: Laurelin Paige

My breath caught.

His mouth was at my ear, and I could feel his hot exhale before he began speaking. “You know, even though I love you, I still want to do dirty things to you.”

Even if he hadn’t been stroking my innermost parts at that moment, I was pretty sure I’d be wet from his words alone. I wanted to hear more.

But we were in someone else’s house, a group of people just in the other room. I should have been stopping him, not fantasizing about what other dirty things he’d want to do to me. Not bucking into his hand as his fingers curled against the sensitive walls of my pussy.

Desire won out.

“Like what?” I asked, my voice already raw and unsteady.

He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Instead of my fingers fucking you, it would be my cock.”

Unf.

“And I wouldn’t go easy on you. Even though your friends and family are just in the other room, I’d fuck you hard, and you’d have a really tough time being quiet. But I wouldn’t care. Because they aren’t my friends—yet. And they’re not my family yet. And I wouldn’t give a shit if they knew what we were doing, but I know you would. So you’d try really hard to be silent, which I would see as a challenge, and I’d just fuck you harder.”

He added another finger and increased his tempo, and I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t moan.

“And the whole time I was fucking you, I’d have a hold of your throat.” He moved his other hand up my body to splay his palm across my neck. “Like this. Every now and then I’d apply just a bit of pressure.” He pushed down slightly. “It’s not a lot, see? But it’s enough to make it feel like you can’t get enough air. And you’d struggle. And that would be a big turn-on for me.”

Holy fucking shit! My heart was pounding and my hands sweaty, and I wasn’t far from coming all over his hand, and he hadn’t even touched my clit. But Jesus. What he’d said? It was so hot. So incredibly hot and dirty and the tiniest bit scary and all I could think was more, more, more.

I wanted him like that. Wanted him like that right then. “You want to do that to me now?”

“Yes.” His answer was so low, so primal, so threadbare, and I knew all he needed was permission.

The words were out before I could think another second about the reasons that we shouldn’t. “Why don’t you then?”

His fingers left my cunt instantly. “Without turning around, put your arms around my neck. Don’t let go.”

I did as he said, clasping my hands together so they’d stay. The position stretched my torso and made my breasts push forward, made my taut nipples sting as they brushed against the fabric of my shirt.

“While I was gone, I thought about all the things I want to do to you. Thought about them in detail.” He gathered my skirt up as he talked, then tucked it into my waistband. “I also thought about all the times we were together. About how I fucked you. About your sounds and how you felt around my cock.”

Now I could hear him undoing his belt, and then there was the distinct sound of a zipper. I squeezed my thighs together, the ache for him so intense that I couldn’t wait for him to give me the relief.

“I remembered everything so vividly, Gwen, that I’d barely have to touch myself to get off.” One hand settled at my hip, and I could imagine him behind me, stroking his cock, getting harder. “But as well as I remembered it, it still takes me by surprise when I get inside you. Because I knew you felt good.” He paused to shove inside me with a blunt stroke that raised me to my toes. “But fuck, Gwen, nothing feels this good.”

No, nothing feels this good.

He followed through as he said he would, his tempo immediately rapid, his thrusts hard and punishing. His hand returned to my neck, and he lightly pressed it as he gave his next orders. “No talking. Not a sound. But I need you to listen.”

I nodded, immediately regretting it since the movement increased the pressure at my throat. I could still breathe easily, but his clutch was tight enough to make me feel bound. Make me feel an edge of nervousness that zipped through my entire body and scared goose bumps to the surface of my skin.

“You’re mine, Gwen.” His voice was rough, punctuated with the drive of his cock. “No matter what you’ve done or who you’ve been with, you belong to me.”

I shivered, my body feeling simultaneously hot and cold. I was his. He’d claimed me, and every part of me blazed with his declaration, burned like he’d branded me with a hot iron.

But there was a cold sting that accompanied the flare of heat. Because I knew where this was coming from. Knew that this was about the guy in the other room. Knew that JC didn’t mind if the others heard, because he actually wanted Chandler to hear.