BOOKED EVERY NIGHT

I loosen one hand from my grip on her hair and grab the hem of her dress pulling it farther down until the hastily tied knots around her neck give, pooling the dress around her knees where it is caught between them and the seat. The expanse of her milky white skin is now only covered by a few scraps of material that match the pink blush suffusing her cheeks.

 

The thought of her breasts tipped in the same color consumes my thoughts. My hands reach for the strings of her bikini with a mind of their own. Two tugs and her top gives way, the cool air bringing a chill to her flushed skin.

 

I press against her shoulders and she sits up. The playful gleam in her eyes has been replaced by a burning need that matches my own. I kick off my pants the rest of the way and she’s straddling my legs before I’ve even managed to shrug out of my tee.

 

She traps me that way, with my arms tangled in the material of my shirt and still poised over my head. Her mouth finds mine and everything about her is emphasized in sharp relief at the darkness. Her sweet scent surrounds me, drives me crazy. Her nimble fingers grip my length and I arch and buck against her.

 

“Fuck, baby, no,” I murmur hoarsely.

The position mimics the one only a few minutes prior, but an urgency has infused our movements. She releases my arms and I attack. My fingers are no longer teasing or tempting as they divest her of her bikini bottoms, but insistent. The moment she’s completely bare to me she entwines me with her arms, slicking herself over the length of my cock like she can’t resist the simple friction of skin against skin.

 

“Ben,” she manages to choke out, “I can’t—”

 

I capture her lips. “I can. Just hold on to me.”

 

She sobs with pleasure as I guide myself to her entrance, her fingers digging into the muscles of my shoulders. She lowers herself down an inch, two, and she groans softly, sweetly. I arch my neck, nearly delirious with the rightness of it.

 

This, is all I can think. Everything about this and only this.