Irresistible You

31.

"I'm not sure if sex is the best idea," I whisper weakly, disappointment taking over every inch of me. I want him desperately, and he knows I've been craving him. The only thing that came out of last night was me falling asleep in his arms, trying to sleep off that migraine from the bar. I would have loved it more if my body were up to it.

"Who said anything about sex?" he chuckles. A fire creeps over my cheeks, and that nervous laugh returns. I look away, this anxiety raking through me.

"You are making me nervous," I breathe out.

"Why?" he flashes a taunting smile. He knows why. My eyes roll, and I readjust myself onto the couch. "I mean, you said it," he teases. If there were a pillow on this couch, I'd be smothering my face into it. "But I could still help you out if you want me to. You don't have to do anything."

My lungs falter in my chest, and I suddenly don't know how to breathe. Heat forms between my two legs, and my knees are pressing together. Another thing that feels so foreign to me is having someone who wants to help me out in that way.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I'd feel bad, especially since I can't do much for you right now," I whisper, squirming a little in the seat. His eyes move slowly down my body, and my fingers claw into the couch. That lust, pooling in those blue eyes, could end me. How is it that his eyes alone have me in some sort of chokehold?

"Just relax, love," his little demand ignites that fire within me. His hand is on my left inner thigh. My breathing staggers as he slowly moves to kiss the nape of my neck. My knees press tighter together, and I already let out a tiny whimper. My eyes fall onto his large hand that I so desperately want to inch up.

"God, I missed you," he whispers. It sounds like his raw morning voice, which is incredibly sexy. Just his warm hand resting on my thigh is driving me crazy. I want those long fingers to feel me, and I want them in me.

His hand inches closer. My legs part a little, and my breathing is rigid. A low growl emits from the back of his throat, just watching me squirm. He already has a bulge in his grey sweats that I want to see.

"Please," I beg quietly, desperately needing his touch. His hand inches further up my inner thigh, his lips sucking slowly at the skin of my neck. His fingers are so close, and my head rests back on the couch. My legs spread apart wider, needing him. His fingers brisk over my shorts and panties, right over my hot, aching centre. My entire body jerks, and I grip his tattooed arm. He curses under his breath, his hot breath fanning over my neck.

His fingers press onto me, and I am short of breath. My hands wrap around his other arm, and I bury my face into his strong bicep. He slowly moves his fingers up and down over me, teasing me some more. "Fuck," he whispers, making me shiver.

His fingers let up before slipping underneath my clothing. The heat of his body pressing against me feels a thousand times better. Except they don't stay long. Two fingers shove into me, and I gasp. Another finger is still felt against that bundle of nerves. He moves his fingers in and out so slowly, my body already clenching around him. My nails dig into his arm, waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"Louis," I let out a shaky breath. His fingers move in and out faster, deep enough to hit a spot that makes my legs tremble every time. That other finger keeps moving against me, making me even wetter.

"Oh my god," I whisper, my head falling back. He moves faster, and my toes begin to curl. His lips are back on my neck, teasing my skin. I can't help but reach over and palm over his pants. He's so hard, and all I can picture is him inside me. He moves even faster, hitting just the right spot. I feel like I am melting right into the couch. My chest rises and falls heavily, and my stomach becomes tighter. Feeling his hard length beneath his sweatpants has my head spinning. My legs begin to tremble, and I moan. I rock my hips against his hand, my legs starting to pinch back together.