The Romantic Pact

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The Romantic Pact Page 21

by Quinn, Meghan


  She nods, not saying a word, but instead pulling on her lip with her teeth.

  “Then take what you want.”

  Her eyes pop open and she says, “I want you. All of you.”

  With that, I rise up and press my hand to her back as I carefully lay her down on the mattress, her head toward the end of the bed. And that’s when it hits me.

  “Fuck,” I say angrily.

  “What?” she asks, her eyes flashing in concern.

  “I don’t have condoms. Didn’t really think I’d be having sex on this trip.”

  “It’s okay,” she says, stroking her hand down my face. “I’m on the pill.”

  On the pill . . . Holy shit.

  “I’ve never gone unprotected, Haze, I’m clean.”

  “I trust you.”

  Understanding the moment, the permission she’s giving me, I lower my head and take her lips with mine, showing her how much I want this. How much I want her. After a few seconds, I lift up and stand at the edge of the bed. I hook both my thumbs in my pants and briefs, and I push them down, exposing my hardened cock.

  Hazel’s eyes widen as she sits up on her elbows and gives me a once-over. I reach down and grip my cock tightly, my fist relieving some of the pressure that’s been building for days. And she watches me. She seems intent on keeping her eyes on my hand as it moves up and down, and I watch her, mesmerized by the fascinated, innocent expression on her face.

  Giving her a show, I pump my cock, squeeze the tip, then bring my hand back down to the base, where I perform short fast strokes, pumping myself hard.

  Her eyes are wild, hungry, and I watch as she snakes her hand down to the spot between her legs, where she slips beneath her lacy underwear and starts moving her fingers under the fabric.

  Shit, that’s hot.

  Really hot.

  So hot that I feel a surge of excitement rush through me, and my cock grows thicker, harder.

  “Take your underwear off,” I say.

  Removing her hand from between her legs, she slides her underwear down, then she spreads her legs for me and moves her hand over her wet pussy.

  Yes.

  Fuck . . . yes.

  Wait, she can’t be doing the work. That’s my job. I need my mouth on her, my hands turning her on.

  Releasing my cock, I grab her by the ankles and pull her so her ass is at the edge of the bed, and then I drop down to my knees and spread her legs even wider.

  The room falls silent, nothing but our wild breath setting the mood for what’s about to happen, that and the dim glow of the streetlights outside bouncing off the snow.

  “You’re so fucking wet, Hazel.”

  “You’ve been teasing me for far too long.”

  “Me, teasing you?” I shake my head. “Other way around, gorgeous.” I press my lips to her inner thigh and glide them so close to her pussy that I feel her tense in anticipation, but I move over to her other leg instead. “You’ve been torturing me all night, and you fucking know it.”

  I glance up and catch a smile on her beautiful lips.

  “And now it’s my turn to torture you, but in the best way possible.” I glide my lips all the way down her legs and then reach up with my fingers and part her. And that’s it. I hold still and glance up at her. Her ample breasts rise and fall as she takes deep, labored breaths, waiting for my next move. Her auburn hair pools on the mattress and her hands grip the comforter beneath her.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, clearly already tortured.

  “Letting you enjoy this moment—of me, this close to your greedy pussy, waiting for me to pleasure you.”

  “I would enjoy it more if you did something,” she complains.

  “Like what?” I lean down and lightly flick my tongue over her clit. “You mean like this?”

  “Holy God, yes, like that.” She shifts under my hold, her legs parting even more. “I need this, Crew. I need this so bad.”

  “When was the last time you had sex?”

  “Can’t remember,” she says right before I bring my mouth to her pussy and start lapping at her. “What . . . about . . . you?”

  “Can’t remember either. No one has been good enough . . . until now.”

  I work her pleasure, pulling it out with long, languid strokes of my tongue, and then I set it on fire with short flicks. I repeat the process over and over again, watching as she slowly starts to lose control, as her brain shuts off and her body takes over, writhing and shaking under my touch.

  I feel her tighten, her orgasm right on the edge, and that’s when I pull away.

  With a gasp, she curls up and stares me down. “Crew, what are you doing?”

  I reach my hand to her chest and press her down onto the mattress. “I’m letting you build, Haze.”

  “I don’t want to build. I want to come.”

  I chuckle and lower my mouth back to her center. I kiss her pubic bone and all around, slowly, with purpose. Each press of my lips is supposed to drive her more and more wild, and it seems to be working as she shifts and groans beneath me.

  “How many times have you thought about me doing this?”

  “Too many,” she answers honestly.

  “Me, too.”

  I spread her again and press kisses to her clit. Her legs squeeze against me, and I pause, sliding my hands up her thighs and slowly pushing them open again, while I run my hands up and down her soft skin.

  “Please, Crew,” she begs in a strained voice.

  “You want to come, Haze?”

  “Badly.”

  Smiling, I lower my mouth again, and this time, I press one of my fingers inside her. She instantly accepts me and rides my finger by rotating her hips. God, she’s tight. Wanting to make sure she can take me, I press another finger inside, and she seems to like that even more by the way her back arches off the mattress.

  I curve my fingers up and stroke while lowering my mouth back to her clit. This time, I want her to become unhinged, so I keep my mouth steady and I lick her—short, quick strokes over her little nub over and over again.

  Her breathing picks up.

  Her hands crumple the sheets beneath us.

  Her moans grow louder and louder.

  Her legs spread even wider, if possible.

  Her mouth falls open, eyes shut, and she moans as she comes on my finger and tongue. Her body spasms, her hips rock, her bouts of pleasure rocking her to the point of exhaustion as she slowly falls into a heap of joy.

  “Oh . . . my . . . God, Crew.” The disbelief in her voice should bother me, as if I could perform any worse, but I actually find it cute.

  Chuckling, I kiss up her stomach to her breasts, and I finally take one in my mouth. I lightly nibble on her nipple, not giving her a chance to slow down. She gasps, and her hands go to the back of my head, sifting through my hair.

  My cock falls between her legs, so goddamn ready for release, but I don’t take it, not yet. I need to spend more time learning her body, memorizing it.

  I move my mouth to her other breast and spend time there. Licking. Nibbling. Sucking.

  And when I get comfortable, playing with her tits, I feel her hand creep down between us and find my erection, pressing hard against her leg. She takes it in her palm and squeezes.

  A sharp breath escapes me as I pause the work on her tits.

  “I want you in my mouth,” she says, pushing at my chest.

  “And I want to play with your tits.”

  She lifts my chin up and presses a kiss to my mouth before saying, “It isn’t always about you, Crew.”

  With a wink, she pushes at my chest, and I allow her to press me against the mattress. My cock falls heavy on my stomach, straining for more. Straining for her.

  “Your body is so sexy.” One of her hands roams my chest as her other hand floats under my dick and rubs a finger in each divot of my lower abs. “I’ve wanted to touch you so badly this entire trip. Every time you walked out of the bathroom in a towel, I wanted to strip it off
and kneel in front of you. Take your dick in my mouth.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter, feeling my arousal spike to another level.

  She kneels on my right side, giving me access so I can still play with her tits. I take one in my hand and roll her nipple as she lowers her mouth. I wait in anticipation for her hot mouth to take me in, but instead, she presses kisses around the spot where my cock rests, and I swear to Christ, she’s going to make me come without even touching me.

  That’s how horny I am.

  That’s how much she turns me on.

  I’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never in my goddamn life. But there’s something about Hazel that has me on the edge of losing control.

  “Hazel, I want to come inside of you.”

  “I know.” She lifts my cock and licks the tip.

  “And . . . fuck, I think I might be quick on the trigger with you touching me.”

  She chuckles. “That’s not boding well for your stamina.”

  “Haze, watching you come on my tongue turned me on so goddamn much that I could have come with you if I’d allowed myself to. Now, you touching me, it’s inevitable.”

  “Then I’ll have to be slow.” She lowers her mouth again and presses kisses along my length, to the base, and then gently cups my balls and kisses those, too.

  Fuck, this is glorious torture. She’s not doing enough to make me come, but she’s doing enough to build the pressure at the base of my spine, to the point that I feel as though I can’t breathe, the tension taking up all the space in my chest.

  “Fu-ck, Haze.”

  She moves her mouth back to the tip, then very slowly opens her mouth and sucks me in, not all the way—just a small amount—and then she rotates her mouth.

  I need her to pump my length, I need her to apply more pressure. I need . . .

  “Fuck, I need to come, Hazel.”

  I move away from her and then pin her down on the bed.

  “I need inside you.” My words come out choppy, caveman-like, but I don’t care. I’m losing all sense of reality as the room around us blurs and turns into nothing. I stare at the only thing that matters—Hazel.

  Me and Hazel.

  “I need you inside me too,” she says, taking my cock and guiding it to her entrance.

  “You sure?”

  She nods. “Go slow. I know you need me, but I need to adjust.”

  “I’d never hurt you.” I lean down and press a kiss to her lips. The hand not holding my cock grips the back of my neck and keeps me there.

  And then slowly, I push forward, entering her warm, tight heat. And, fuck, it’s the best goddamn thing I’ve ever felt.

  So fucking good.

  So fucking perfect.

  Nothing compares.

  I feel her every muscle pulling me in, accepting me, adjusting to my girth, to my length.

  Her mouth pulls away for a brief moment as she catches her breath. Whispering, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She brings her mouth back to mine and I feel her relax, so I push a little farther.

  And a little farther.

  My muscles strain. I’m barely hanging on.

  I want to let loose. I want to pound into her, explore this deep warmth I’ve never felt before. I want to lose control and take her with abandon, but she wants slow.

  So I’ll give her slow.

  She continues to make out with me, her tongue diving in and out of my mouth, and with each pass I feel her relax more and more, allowing me inside her until I bottom out. I pause, letting her adjust.

  “So . . . full.” She exhales shallowly as I give her one small pump of my hips. “You feel amazing, Crew.”

  She has no idea how great this feels. Like I’m on cloud fucking nine and I’m never coming back down. In this moment, I know it won’t be like this with anyone else, because this is Hazel. I’m neither saint nor monk, but it ought to mean something when a woman allows a man inside her body. It’s a privilege. I like to connect with a woman emotionally before sex, and with Haze, the connection is years deep. Significant. Priceless.

  Testing the waters, I start to rock my hips. Her kisses grow more frantic, and I take that as a sign to keep moving, so I set a steady pace with my thrusts. Just enough to feel how tight she is, but not enough to set me off.

  “Yes,” she whispers, her breath trailing over my spine, raising the hairs on the back of my neck to attention. “Yes, Crew.” Hearing my name fall off her tongue like that, it spurs my hips to go faster. “Yes.” Her hands fall to my back, where they grip tightly, her fingers digging into my skin.

  I pick up my pace, feeling her, only her, as I plunge deeper, harder, listening to her pleasure whisper into my ear.

  “More,” she says before taking my mouth with hers.

  Her tongue swipes against mine.

  Her fingers dig deeper.

  Her pussy tightens around my cock.

  She moans into my mouth.

  “Oh my God,” she says, before pulling her legs up higher. “Oh . . . Crew. Yes, oh God, yes,” she says, her moans growing louder and louder. “Right there, yes. Oh my God, I’m going to come.”

  I push harder, feeling her pussy contract just as she arches against me. Her moan tumbles out of her as she comes, and it feels next to impossible to continue my thrusts as she spasms around me, but I push and push and . . . Jesus Fucking Christ . . .

  “Ahhh, motherfucker,” I groan as my body tightens up, and I come. I still, my cock spasming inside her tight warmth, everything around me turning black as I get lost in this feeling.

  As I get lost in Hazel.

  Fucking explosive—that’s the only way to describe what that felt like.

  I collapse on top of her. Her arms wrap around me and she kisses my forehead while I catch my breath.

  Together, we take deep breaths, our bodies settling until we’re completely sated. She strokes my hair and I hold on to her tightly, never wanting to let go.

  Finally, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  Her hand runs over my hair and she says, “Perfect.”

  “I didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. Not even a little.”

  I lift my head up and press my lips to hers, and we slowly make out for a few seconds, until I finally pull out of her and go to the bathroom where I clean up quickly and then grab a warm washcloth for her. I’m about to take it to her, but instead run into her in the bathroom.

  She chuckles and when she sees the warm washcloth, her eyes soften.

  “Okay, you just earned brownie points.”

  I smile at her and step aside, giving her the washcloth and some privacy in the bathroom.

  I return to the bed, where I flop down on the mattress and stare up at the slanted ceiling.

  I just had sex with Hazel Allen.

  No, not just sex, but mind-blowing, earth-shattering, life-changing sex. Sex that means something. The kind that you’re not supposed to forget about. The kind that alters your life forever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  HAZEL

  Hazel: I had sex with Crew.

  Mia: Well . . . Merry Christmas to you.

  Hazel: Yes, Merry Christmas, blah, blah, blah. Crew and I did it last night.

  Mia: You’re lucky I’m awake right now. What’s Crew doing?

  Hazel: He’s sleeping.

  Mia: Okay, so are you freaking out? Are you happy? Are you wishing you were anywhere else but sharing a bed with that fine piece off ass?

  Hazel: LOL. I’m . . . I don’t know, happy?

  Mia: Is that a question or a statement?

  Hazel: A statement, I think. I’m still trying to figure it out.

  Mia: How many times did you do it?

  Hazel: Four.

  Mia: Jesus. Okay. Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever done it two times in one night, let alone four. Are you able to walk this morning?

  Hazel: Haven’t tested it out yet. From just shifting around, I can tell I’m sore.

  Mia: The best kind of
sore.

  Hazel: What do I do, Mia?

  Mia: What do you mean? How did you leave it last night? Was it intimate or just carnal?

  Hazel: Both. The last time we did it though, it was really slow, and then he held me until we both drifted off to sleep.

  Mia: Well, that right there tells me what happened last night wasn’t just sex. It was so much more.

  Hazel: You think so? I honestly don’t know how to act this morning.

  Mia: Act normal. When he wakes up, tell him Merry Christmas, and see what he does. If he reaches out to kiss you, that sets the tone.

  Hazel: And what if he doesn’t kiss me?

  Mia: Uh . . . I don’t know, I’m kind of expecting him to kiss you.

  Hazel: That’s not helpful.

  Mia: He’s going to kiss you.

  Hazel: You don’t know that.

  Mia: And you need to stop freaking out. You know Crew better than I do, Haze. It seems as though he’s been tentative with you, so maybe he doesn’t know what you feel for him.

  I think about that for a moment. Crew was surprised when I said I’d wanted him for so long, but he wasn’t uncertain when he told me how desperately he’d wanted me. From what he’s mentioned, he’s not a one-night-stand guy. Does he need me to show him that I want more?

  Hazel: My heart’s already attached. It has been for a while.

  Mia: Then perhaps his has been too.

  Crew stirs next me, and setting my phone on the nightstand, I hop out of bed to retrieve my nightgown. I quickly put it on so I’m not walking around naked as I make my way to the bathroom to take care of business and brush my teeth. When I exit, I run right into Crew, who’s wearing his pajama pants now, scratching his chest, and looking adorably cute.

  “Oh, hi,” I say, my nerves itching at the back of my neck.

  “Morning, Haze.” He gives me a lopsided grin.

  We stand there, staring at each other, and I wait.

  I wait for him to kiss me, but he doesn’t make that move. Instead, he nods to the bathroom and says, “Uh, can I use the bathroom?”

 

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