Friends with Benefits_A Steamy College Romance

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Friends with Benefits_A Steamy College Romance Page 14

by Hazel Kelly


  Finally, he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, growling softly as he sucked it so hard it made me gush. Then he moved to my top lip, kissing his way across it with gentle nibbles and sucks that were so intense even my heart clenched.

  It was wild. No one had ever labored over my lips like that, like every inch of them was a melting popsicle that needed immediate attention.

  I rocked against his hard-on, and he slipped his tongue in my mouth, inviting me to taste the sharp sweetness he’d licked from me as his kiss lulled me into a dreamlike state of euphoric bliss.

  “Take off your pants and lie on the bed,” he whispered against my lips.

  I stood up, expecting him to do the same, but he stayed where he was, his eyes darkening as he watched me peel my printed pajama bottoms down.

  “No underwear, huh?” His wet lips twitched with amusement. “It’s like you knew I was coming.”

  “I really didn’t.”

  “I want you on the bed,” he repeated, rising to his knees.

  I sat on the edge of it and looked down at him, frightened by how much I wanted him to want me.

  “Lie back,” he said, forcing my knees apart.

  My breath hitched at the roughness of it, at the way it turned me on. How could his words make me feel so powerless and powerful at the same time?

  He dropped his eyes to my swollen clit and the hunger in them intensified.

  “Carter-”

  “Shh.” He dragged his fingers along my seam.

  It was impossible to think when he was touching me there, impossible to take my eyes off him.

  “Shut up and smell the roses, Nina,” he said, dipping his fingers inside me. “’Cause this is happening.”

  I reached for the bouquet and wrapped my fingers around it, squeezing the stems as I dropped back to my elbows.

  He kept his eyes on me as he licked his lips and lowered his face between my legs, legs I’d forgotten about since the moment he began smearing my hot silk around my entrance.

  And once again, he stuck his tongue out and traced the edges of my lips, moaning over the taste of my sweet nectar as I'd moaned over my dessert.

  “Carter-” I breathed, causing him to flatten his tongue and lick me harder. Two laps later, and I had no choice but to fall back across my bed and tilt my hips up so he could feast on me, his tongue circling my swollen bud until he started a tornado inside me. “Yes,” I whimpered. “Don't stop.”

  He continued licking me senseless and slid his fingers inside me, stretching me wide so I could feel the twist of every digit as he curled them, causing my thoughts to melt into a pool of pink honey.

  And then I became aware of something else, of his other hand sliding up under my shirt and molding my breasts in his hands.

  Suddenly, he hit a nerve, and my lower body bucked against his tongue so forcefully he had to grab my thighs and hold me down to keep the pressure on.

  “Carter-” I begged as he brought me to the brink. “I'm going to come.”

  He groaned without breaking his rhythm, sending vibrations through my body that felt like an invitation to melt all over his face.

  And I did, writhing against him as I came like a violent flood, the sounds of his greedy slurping making me high. Making me his.

  He drank from me with such enthusiasm I felt possessed. As if he owned my pleasure. As if it belonged to him and he was merely sharing it with me.

  I rolled my head to the side and brought the bouquet to my nose, inhaling the scented roses in the hope that it might bring me back to the body I’d floated outside of. When I opened my eyes again, he was standing between my legs, undoing his belt with a smug smile on his face. “That was—”

  “I know,” he said, pulling a condom out of his pocket before taking his jeans down. “For me, too.”

  Did he want me to return the favor? I eyed his stiff cock, which glistened with a hint of precum above me. It would be so easy to sit up and lick it, to take him into my mouth. I could let him fuck my throat and the insides of my cheeks however he wanted, let him use me however he wanted. I mean, I didn't even care if he was using me at this point. It couldn’t be bad if it felt this good.

  He pulled his shirt off over his head and slipped the condom on. “No one's ever gotten that wet for me,” he said, squeezing the base of his dick.

  God, it was so close, and we'd already broken the rule. Would it really be so wrong to return the favor? After everything he did for me tonight? After what he just did?

  “Actually, I don't think anyone's ever been that wet, period.”

  I didn't know what to say. Didn't even remember how to speak. What had he done to me?

  “And I can't wait to slip inside you and enjoy it,” he said, bending down to grab my ankles.

  I felt like a ragdoll. Sure, I could see that it was my legs he was holding up, that it was my ankles he was pressing to his strong shoulders. But all I could do was watch as he had his way with me.

  And as soon as he lifted my hips off the bed and sank his firm cock inside me, all I could do was feel. How big he was, how thick. How hard and how deep.

  “Fuck, Nina,” he said, sliding in and out of me so easily the sensations in my body couldn't even keep up. “You feel too good.”

  I watched his hips sway as he moved in and out of me, watched his slick dick disappear inside me over and over, watched him watch me watching him.

  It was incredibly hot- incredibly intimate- and I’d never felt so sexy in my life.

  He draped my legs to one side and dragged me lengthways on the bed, his hands gripping my ass as he literally fucked me sideways, the muscles in his stomach and arms flexing as he pounded against me, his eyes moving between my face and my bouncing tits.

  I pulled my shirt up to appease him, starved for the way his eyes burned my skin.

  A momentary smile interrupted his serious expression, and he slowed his pace, his eyes on mine as he let me feel his every thick inch stretching through me.

  The pleasure he was inflicting on me felt so intense my eyes started to water, and I was relieved when he slammed into me two thrusts later, coming with such ferocity my thin mattress struggled to absorb the shudders.

  “Fuck,” he panted, letting his head fall back as he unloaded his desire, his hips jerking against me.

  Yeah, I thought. That’s what she said.

  T H I R T Y

  - Carter -

  Being the big spoon reminded me of the first night we spent together, and the memory made me smile. I could still recall how soft her skin felt against my palms, which were callused from lifting at the gym. And I distinctly remembered the citrusy scent of her hair that night.

  She smelled good enough to eat, and it turned out she was. Good enough to gorge on, in fact.

  I licked my lips, which still tasted of her, and thought about how hot it was when she coated my tongue with her pleasure. Fuck, it felt good to make her come like that.

  I especially loved when her hips started moving, as if her whole body was desperate to fuck my face.

  “What are you thinking about?” she whispered, playing with the fingers on the hand I'd draped over her.

  “I'm thinking about how good you tasted.”

  She spread my fingers apart and slid my hand over her breast.

  My thumb and forefinger moved on autopilot, massaging her nipple to attention. “What are you thinking about?”

  “I'm thinking about the rules we broke tonight and hoping it doesn't make things weird between us.”

  “Why would it make things weird?”

  Her shoulders shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe it doesn't have to.”

  I wished I could see her face. “It doesn’t.”

  She sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,”

  “It's a favor.”

  “Please don’t say you want me to let go of your boob.”

  She laughed. “That’s not it.”

  “Then I'll do it.”

&
nbsp; “You don't even know what it is.”

  “I know that you're the one asking,” I said. “What more information do I need?”

  She scooted back and curled against me, her knees bending around mine.

  “If it's another ride on the tongue-ta-whirl you're after, I’m going to need a few more minutes,” I said. “I’m as beat as the eggs I bound those meatballs with.”

  “Me too.”

  “So what is it?” I asked.

  “You can say no if you want.”

  “Jesus, woman, spit it out already.”

  She rolled over to face me. “Would you go to my cousin's wedding with me?”

  “Is your cousin hot?”

  Confusion veiled her face. “What?”

  “That was supposed to be a joke.”

  She scrunched her face. “Not your best.”

  “I was just trying to keep things light since you look so serious right now.”

  “It's a serious question.”

  “Oh. Well, in that case, I'll seriously go.”

  Her face lit up. “You will?”

  “Will there be drinks and a dance floor? I'm probably on the guest list already.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “My invite must’ve gotten lost in the mail. Or more likely, one of my frat brothers ate it on a dare.”

  “Doubtful,” she said. “It was on pretty thick paper.”

  “When is it?”

  “The end of May.”

  “Perfect. I'm bound to be hungry and thirsty again by then.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You don't have to thank me. I love a wedding.”

  “You have to wear a hat.”

  “Awesome. I look great in hats.”

  “Do you?” she asked. “I've only ever seen you in that red beanie.”

  I craned my neck forward. “And?”

  “I guess it does look great on you.”

  “That’s why it’s my favorite.” I recalled the time one of my fellow pledges pretended he was jerking off into it to get a rise out of me. I punched him in the face. An overreaction perhaps, but there was a lot of Jäger involved.

  “You know it'll have to be a fancier hat than that, right?”

  “I'm not an idiot, Nina. Besides, that hat doesn't go with any of my suits.”

  Her green eyes smiled. “I know it's sort of against the rules.”

  “I think it'll be okay,” I said. “Rules are best broken in threes anyway.”

  “You're sure?”

  “Of course. I wouldn't leave you hanging.”

  She laid a hand against my chest. “Thanks.”

  “You don’t need to thank me,” I said. “I’d be up the creek if you got condemned to the singles table and met someone who makes better meatballs than me.”

  “That’s unlikely,” she said. “Gumbo, maybe. But not meatballs.”

  “Ehh. Gumbo's overrated.”

  “Oh no you didn't,” she said. “You better take that back.”

  “Not only am I not going to take it back, but I'm going to walk around saying that to people at the wedding as my icebreaker.”

  She shook her head.

  “I'm going to talk mad shit about cornbread, too.”

  “Please don't be that guy.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Isn’t that the plan? I create a diversion so you can get drunk enough to elbow bitches on the way to the bouquet.”

  “I'm not trying to catch the bouquet.”

  “No? I thought women loved to compete for the bouquet.”

  “You've seen too many romcoms.”

  I blew air out between my lips. “No shit. I saw too many romcoms before I was eight.”

  She cocked an eyebrow.

  “My mom was worried my brother and I wouldn't know how to treat women since we didn't have a sister growing up.”

  “So she made you watch romcoms?”

  “Like you wouldn't believe.”

  “What's your favorite?” she asked.

  “Easy. Dirty Dancing.”

  “You are full of surprises, Carter Montgomery.”

  “Good surprises?”

  “Would you be in my twin bed if you weren't?”

  I pressed my lips together. “Mmm. It's hard to say considering what an over-the-top hornball you are.”

  “I'm not a hornball!”

  “Are you kidding? You laughed about my meatballs for fifteen minutes. You're practically an honorary frat boy.”

  “Oh, please.”

  Her phone vibrated on her desk. Again. “You sure you don't need to check that?”

  “I'm sure.”

  “What if it's an emergency?”

  “It's definitely not. Zoey's with Logan and Sadie's at a craft beer tasting.” She trailed her fingertips over my shoulder and draped them behind my neck. “It's probably just a Tinder notification or something.”

  Just a Tinder notification?

  “They've been driving me crazy.”

  Huh.

  I thought that was my job.

  T H I R T Y O N E

  - Nina -

  I swiped through my phone, trying to decide if I actually wanted to meet any of the guys that had messaged me. I mean, a few of them were attractive, and an even smaller group hadn't sent totally appalling messages to break the ice.

  One guy and I even had a few mutual friends. And there was another with great hair that I recognized from a class I took first semester. Who knows? Maybe he had jokes, too. Maybe he even knew how to make meatballs. Then again, I could forgive him being green in the kitchen if he was like Carter in bed.

  As if. No one was like Carter in bed. He was a force, a god, a sex machine, and he'd turned me into a desperate nymphomaniac.

  It was like I had that phantom limb syndrome people get when they lose a leg, except it was Carter's dick I found myself missing when he wasn't inside me.

  How I lived for that moment when he lost control and let go. It was everything, turning him on like that. I could soak my panties just thinking about the way he'd kissed and licked that syrup off my lips, the way his greedy tongue had turned my insides to hot lava.

  Fuck, he was hot.

  But it wasn't just the sex. We had a connection.

  Didn't we?

  Surely he didn't cook for every girl he fucked. I would've known a long time ago that he could cook, if that were the case. And he remembered I liked raspberries. And blew off every girl in his little black book just to cheer me up when I was studying on Valentine’s Day.

  He lit a fucking candle, for chrissake!

  That must’ve broken some sort of friends-with-benefits code.

  Perhaps I wasn't the only one who didn’t mind that the lines we first drew were getting blurry. Maybe he wanted more, too, even if that more was merely a well-deserved blow job.

  Speaking of which, part of me regretted that I hadn’t given him one, especially since he'd tasted me so thoroughly. But he felt so good after he got me drenched like that. Even now, I could probably close my eyes, picture his slick cock disappearing inside my soaked center, and die happily.

  I swiped past another few guys but didn't like any of them.

  That said, I did find the predictability of the photos amusing. First there’d be a shirtless pic to get my attention, followed by a demonstration of talent, like a picture of the guy in a sports uniform or playing the guitar. Then there’d be the look-at-me-with-all-my-sweet-bros pic, and finally, the obligatory animal lover photo. The ones with puppies were always my favorite.

  Not sure what that said about the guys on offer.

  Logically, I knew there had to be some princes among the frogs.

  Unfortunately, my body’s loyalty to Carter blinded me to them, which was as stupid as it was unsustainable. Unless, of course, he was equally sprung. Hell, maybe he'd tired of his playboy lifestyle, and I was the lucky girl who'd finally tamed his wild heart.

  I smiled at the thought…until my reverie was interrupted by
my mom, whose face appeared on my phone over the latest puppy pic.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, Honey. I'm so glad I caught you.”

  I was relieved to hear a happy tone since she’d been holding back tears the last time she called. She wouldn't say what was wrong, but I knew it must’ve had something to do with my dad. She never cried over anything else…except when Sadie's sister died.

  “I heard you found a date for Rebecca's wedding?”

  “News travels fast,” I said, though five days seemed slower than usual. Rebecca must've been seriously swamped by wedding prep.

  “What's his name?”

  “Shauna.”

  “What?”

  “Just kidding, Mom. Just trying to keep you on your toes.”

  “Your sense of humor baffles me.

  “His name is Carter. He's a junior. I've known him since the first week of school.”

  “Lovely. What's he like?”

  “You'll meet him soon enough.”

  “Oh come on, Nina. It's been so long since you were excited about a guy.”

  “Don't make this bigger than it is, Mom.”

  “At least tell me what he looks like.”

  I imagined him pulling off his red beanie and smiled. “He's tall with blue eyes. Muscular but not too muscular.”

  “Lovely.”

  I should've known that was all she'd say. Her other favorite word- horrible- wouldn't have fit there.

  “Is he a dancer?” she asked. “Or is he going to pout when the music comes on like that last boy you dated?”

  “First of all, Danny had a broken arm that day, and second of all, we're not exactly dating.”

  Silence.

  “Don't tell Rebecca or Aunt Suzie that, obviously, but it's not that serious is all I'm trying to say.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “What do you mean, why not?”

  “Why isn't it serious?” she asked. “Is there something wrong with him?”

  “No.”

  “Then why aren't you giving him a chance?”

  “I am, Mom. I'm bringing him to the wedding, aren't I?”

  “He must want it to be serious then.”

  “I don't know about that,” I said. “It's complicated.”

  “Well, you better make it simple before the big day because you know everyone is going to get up in your grill.”

 

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