More Than a Fling? by Joss Wood Page B

her
see-through lace bra with obvious appreciation.
    ‘Oh, yeah...’ he muttered, ducking his head and placing his
lips over her lace-covered nipple, drawing it into his mouth, lightly nipping it
with his teeth and soothing the flicker of pain with his clever tongue.
    Above his head Ally moaned, clasped his head and held it to her
breast. Ross responded by slipping his hand between her legs and unerringly
finding her sweet spot through the layers of her clothes.
    ‘God, Ross...’ Ally murmured. ‘That feels so good.’
    ‘I know, honey.’
    Ross pulled her shirt up and over her head. Then he pulled the
cup of her bra aside and tasted her nipple without the barrier of lace while he
slid down her Capris and pushed them over her hips so that they ended up in a
pile around her feet.
    Ally tried to protest, but then his hand was in her panties,
sliding through her strip of pubic hair and into her slit, touching her clit
with his thumb. She yelped, and then one long finger pushed into her tight
passage.
    Ally let out another yelp of piercing pleasure. ‘God, Ross, we
should stop,’ she panted, even though her hips were pushing down on his finger,
his thumb, demanding more. She almost cried when Ross pulled out of her, but
then his two hands were on her hips and she was lifted and carried to the desk,
where he pushed her laptop out of the way to make room for her.
    ‘Not a chance,’ Ross stated, spreading her knees apart with his
thigh. With one quick twist the ties of her G-string snapped and he pulled the
triangle away from her so that it fell from the desk, revealing her to his hot
and heated gaze.
    ‘As I said...beautiful.’
    ‘Ross...’ Ally muttered, squirming against the cold wooden
desk, desperately—selfishly—wanting him to resume what he’d been doing.
    Instead of touching her down below, he touched his lips to the
corner of her mouth. ‘What do you need, baby?’
    ‘What you were doing... I shouldn’t ask because I
can’t...won’t... We shouldn’t...’ Ally spoke, but she was not sure if she was
making sense. She just wanted him touching her so knowingly, so perfectly.
    ‘You want more?’
    Ally placed her hands on the desk behind her and arched her
back as his finger rolled down the column of her throat, down her chest and
across one nipple.
    ‘Do you want me to touch you?’
    ‘Yes! God, it’s been so long.’
    Ally dropped her head back as that finger—that knowing,
amazing, lightning-infused finger—explored her belly button, went lower, touched
her bead and slid into her hot, wet, demanding passage. Then a second finger
joined the first, and his tongue swirled into her panting mouth as he stroked
her bead, and she launched herself up and shouted with embarrassing abandon.
    She pumped and he kissed; he stroked and she whirled away on a
starburst of pleasure. Until a dazzling display of fireworks erupted from her
innermost core. Colours swirled and twirled and she danced in them until they
fizzled and died, and then she slumped in Ross’s arms, her face in his neck, as
she tried to suck in air.
    Ross pulled his hand out from between her legs and held her
head against his neck, his hand sticky on her thigh.
    ‘Dear God...’ Ally murmured when she had enough air for
words.
    ‘That good, huh?’ Ross dropped a brief kiss on her temple.
    Then she realised that he was still standing between her legs,
fully dressed and very hard. She rested her hands on his pecs, feeling the
thud-bump of his heartbeat under her hands.
    ‘You—are we?—can I—?’ Ally tripped and stumbled over her words,
inwardly cursing herself for being so inexperienced, so damn gauche. And for
letting things go this far.
    The backs of her fingers brushed his erection and his penis
jumped in response.
    Ross groaned, grabbed her hand, lifted it to his mouth and
kissed the tips of her fingers. ‘Not tonight, Ally.’
    Ally stared at him, bemused. ‘Why not?’
    His knuckles rubbed her cheekbone. ‘Because you still