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Aspen

Chris reeked of alcohol, his lips a bitter taste against mine. I could taste it, the alcohol in his lips as he slipped his tongue inside. As he slowly moved his hands to pull me closer and all I could do was lean.

I was stunned to say the least, and had been scared the moment I heard the loud grunt. It jerked me awake, scared someone had broken in my room. But that flare had disappeared, replaced with concerns as I watched Chris ease himself up.

He was slurring, his words barely understandable. But when he grabbed me, when his lips brushed against mine I knew what would happen. Only a brush of disappointment that lingered when Chris had walked out, unable to listen to me. Angry at what I had said. But all that emotion had vanished, now replaced with a deeper one.

Even through the stumbles and lack of light, Chris's mouth was firmly on mine. His grip held me to him, burning through the thin material of clothing I wore. I allowed him to kiss me, hot and desperate for more. The heat spreading across every inch of my body, tingling with an intensified need.

My body ached to be released, my thighs begging to be pressed together. Unable to do such a thing as Chris was kneeling between them, my legs gripping his sides. Caging him, his body shuddering underneath my touch as I pulled him closer.

It was like a thread pulling me closer to him, to wrap myself around him. To somehow make him mine, every inch of him. The wicked feeling of lust was coated with something deeper, something that had started long ago. That I wanted it to stay and drive me all the way to an unforeseen edge that loomed and seemed so beautiful.

I was lost in soft drunken lips, lingering touches that sent a moan across my body. Chris's hand moving from the nape of my neck to my shoulders. Moving down my sides, to the legs that surrounded him. Expert fingers that moved along my legs, palms firmly planted on my thighs.

This all felt new and raw, sizzling with an electrifying passion that I wanted to explore. His lips, his hands, even his alcohol scent felt like home. "You're so fucking sweet," he rasped heavily as he pulled away from me.

My own heart was pounding against my rib cage, breath shallow as my gaze dipped to see his own chest rising rapidly. Eyes locked onto mine, sparkling with a thick emotion. Slowly I felt his hands slide up my thighs, fingering the hem of the nightgown that had ridden up. There was a question in his eyes, one I answered with a vigorous nod.

Chris closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Opening them with a hooded expression that promised an illicit feeling. It was rebellious, enchanting, throbbing to feel him lift my nightgown. His hands sliding down my bottom, tugging all the way up until I slowly lifted it above my head.

"Fuck," he growled, hands planted firmly besides my legs. Shaking, itching to touch, my own body yearning for it. I had no idea what to do, if I should move or reach out to him. And when his eyes met mine, burning with longing it settled that for him this was enough. But I didn't want it to be all, I wanted strong and fulfilling. I wanted everything, but especially him. Only him, only mine.

With a gentless, Chris gripped my wrist. Tugging me towards him, pressing my palm to his crotch. The hardness a consuming thought in my mind, eyes widening a fraction at the feeling.

Oh God

"This is what you do to me," he said in a voice unlike his own, dark and alluring. Clenching my insides, making the thump of my heart grow louder.

"I'm..." I stuttered. "I'm sorry." I didn't know if he meant it in a good way, but he had said that it meant love.

"No sweetheart. You wanted this. And now you know what you do to me." I gasped, the thought of him having this reaction was thrilling.

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