House of Goths

Chapter 33

As he'd done the first time, he trailed hot wet kisses along her jawline, down her neck and found her earlobe. With his arms now encircled around her, one hand cradling her skull, the other tucked nicely underneath her coat, resting between her arm and her ribs, fingers circling, massaging the softness of her flesh, the swell of her breast.

Becky couldn't quite grasp all that was happening to her at his masterful ministrations. Only that she liked it all so very much. All that truly mattered was that Kelley was kissing her, alternating from fervent and demanding, to soft and slow. His powerful body lined up perfectly with her softness. He continued to kiss her while pushing, rocking, and rolling his magnificent hardness into the juncture of her thighs, igniting her core into a fiery furnace of want.

"Kelley..." she rasped desperately, tangling her fingers in his long black hair. Hungrily, she tugged him into her needy centre, wrapping her legs around his hips, pressing herself against him, seeking relief from her unrelenting desire. "Uh, Kelley..." She couldn't get close enough to him, as much as she tried. "I want you."

All was right in her world as long as he didn't stop what he was doing to her. The gorgeous Goth was churning her into melting pot of molten hot lava. Gracie was right. She should fuck Kelley, good and hard. Set him straight. That's right, teach him a lesson for driving off like that.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he husked in her ear. Fighting for self-control, his hand slipped under her shirt and travelled upwards to massage her nipple through her bra. "Tell me something, Becky. Tell me the truth."

"Yes... anything, Kelley," she said, her voice a heady whisper while arching her sensitive breast into his hand.

"Who were thinking of?" He nipped and sucked her plump earlobe, eliciting a heated moan from her throat. "When you were touching yourself? Who's hands were you envisioning?"

Becky reddened significantly at his intimate question. How could she possibly answer him without wanting to hide her face into his shoulder?

"Tell me, please," he rasped, his voice heavy, his breath hot and ragged in her ear.

"I can't say," she squeaked bashfully.

"Oh... sweet, shy thing. Please, tell me. Don't make me beg."

She held her breath but at the ache in his voice, she gave in. "You, Kelley. I was thinking about you. Your hands on my..."

"Oh, love, say my name again." He braced himself, his knees buckling at the sultry sound of her voice.

"Kelley..."

"I swear, love. One day I will touch you there," he groaned, kissing her mouth hungrily, concentrating on the fleshy softness of her perky breast in his hand. His fingers, slipping under the lacy material of her bra, taking hold of her tender nipple, rolling the priceless treasure between his thumb and forefinger. "With my hands, my fingers and my mouth. Oh, yes, I will put my mouth down there and I will taste you. I'll kiss you there. Lick you all over and make you scream." He thrust his tongue so deeply into her mouth that she all she could do was hold on and allow him complete access.

Her body twitched in response to the rhythmic thrusts of his relentless tongue. His hips, grinding into her at the same time.

"Yes, Kelley," she murmured, delirious with desire. If there were even a minuscule amount of space between them, she'd used it to strip off her clothes right there and then.

The sound of a door opening and closing shocked them both out of their heady make-out session. Kelley stiffened but stood his ground, preparing for a possible confrontation. Mortified, Becky clung fiercely to Kelley's hair and hid her face into his neck. Oddly, whoever it was, did not utter a single word or snicker. Daring a peek over Kelley's shoulder, she recognized Crispin's silhouette as he quietly crossed the yard and disappeared into the house.