More Than Friends (5 page)

Seb refused to release her delicious cunt. Refused to let one drop of her tasty cream be wasted. While his cock strained against his zip, throbbing painfully in his constrictive boxers, he licked her right through her orgasm. Licked her clit and her finger. Then he removed both of their hands and licked those fingers clean too. And when he’d completed the job, he licked all the way around her slick lips and inner thighs.

He licked until the sound of her soft sobs broke through his determination to taste her completely, to swallow her whole. To bring her to orgasm all over again. When a choked whimper and stifled sniffle reverberated through his ears, he froze.

Mid-lick, he pulled away from her pussy and looked upward, beyond the ripped shirt, beyond the shredded lace bra and up to her face. The stream of tears trickling down her cheeks hit him like a blow to the gut.

His Loo, still trembling from the violence of her orgasm, stood slumped against the wall, crying. Her free hand—the one that wasn’t linked through his—covered her eyes, and her head drooped forward, brown curls cascading over her shoulders.

Seb bolted to his feet. Disentangling his hand from hers, he cupped her chin and cheeks between his palms and urged her to face him.

She refused.

“Look at me.” He was pressed close to her lower body, his clothed erection now nestled against her bare belly, and the knowledge nearly sent him over the edge.

As it was, he burned for release, burned with the impulse to come. He needed only to free his junk, pump himself once or twice and he’d blow like a crazed man.

But he fought back that primal drive. His orgasm was irrelevant compared to the woman sobbing against him.

Seb placed a thumb under her chin and forced her face up. Brown irises shimmered behind her tears, and as another drop escaped, he brushed it away. Her sobs wrenched his gut.

“Tears?” The word was a question. Just one word, because Seb’s heart had stuck in his throat, making speech difficult. Watching her cry tore him clean apart.

Her response was just as verbose as his, only a lot shakier. “Why?”

“Why?”

“W-why did you do that?”

“That?” Jesus, his head wasn’t working properly. His brain was still absorbed by the taste of her pussy, the feel of her cunt, the throbbing in his cock.

“This,” she corrected, her voice thready, her chest heaving. “Me. Naked. My clothes ripped. My… You…” She shook her head and closed her eyes, squeezing out more tears.

“You, my what, Loo?”

“You made me come.” She gulped in air. “Tore my shirt, my bra. Got me naked, and made me come. W-why?”

Seb blinked, the fog finally beginning to clear from his head. Why indeed?

“Why?” she asked again.

“I couldn’t not.” That was the best answer he had. The most honest one. “I followed you in here because I was scared you’d refuse to see me again if I didn’t. I wanted to be here, to talk to you, be with you, get us back on track. But then you showed me the bath, and you said you’d fucked yourself in it, and suddenly it was the only thing I could think of, the only thing I could see. You, naked and masturbating. Fuck, I needed to see it again, for real. Wanted to see it so bad it wiped rational thought from my mind.”

He’d acted on instinct. Experienced an impulse and followed through on it, without stopping to consider what he was doing or why. He’d wanted and he’d taken. Had Lucy not begun to cry, he’d have continued taking, continued licking her until he’d wrenched another orgasm from her tasty cunt. Maybe another two. Or three. The way he’d felt as he’d knelt before her, lost in his feeding frenzy, he wasn’t sure two or three more would have been enough.

He wasn’t sure a hundred orgasms would have satisfied him. He’d have been content to keep going until the only thing stopping him was sheer exhaustion—on Lucy’s part.

“The thought of you touching yourself was the sexiest thing I’d ever imagined. Made me hard as a fucking pole. But
watching
you do it? Seeing you with your hand on your pussy? Geez, imagination has nothing on you. Nothing.”

She swallowed, the muscles in her neck working against his forearm. “H-how did it make you feel?”

He grinned then and rocked against her, rubbing his erection against her bare belly. “You can’t tell?”

A shudder passed through her, but she shook her head and pressed her hand to his chest, right above his heart. “No, I mean, how did it make you feel in here?”

At that question, he faltered.

How did it make him feel
emotionally
? Hell, he didn’t have a clue. Hadn’t stopped to think about it. He hadn’t stopped to think about anything apart from how much he wanted her and how determined he was to have her. Physically, he felt fan-fucking-tastic.

Emotionally?

“Sebastian?”

He shook his head. “What just happened, what’s still happening, isn’t about emotional and psychological responses. It’s about doing what feels right, and God help me, watching you come feels right. Nothing has ever
felt
more right. I’d like to watch you come again, right now, right here.”

She stared at him with stricken eyes. “I don’t want to come again. I don’t want you to watch me fall apart in your arms. I want you to feel something about us.”

“I do feel something, babe. I feel good. I feel satisfied, and the reason I feel that way is because you found satisfaction.”

She made a strangled sound. “So this is what satisfaction looks like to you?”

He stepped back a fraction, allowing some space between the two of them, and let his gaze run over her torn clothes and heaving body. “I think this is what heaven looks like.”

Her hand curved into a fist where it lay against his chest. “Can you please, just for one second, think with your head and not your dick?”

“I’m trying,” he said honestly. “Fuck knows, I’m trying, but when I look at you and I feel you, it’s hard to think at all.”

She pounded her fist against his chest. “For God’s sake. Is that all you have, that’s all you can say? That physically you feel great? Physically this is
all
great? There’s more to this. So much more. There are emotions involved. Thoughts involved. There are real people involved. You and me. And this real person, here—” she pointed to herself, “—feels something other than just physical satisfaction. I feel love, damn it. I love you. I’m in love with you. And you sharing my fantasies, making them real… It…it just makes me love you more. Makes me want you to love me. Makes me desperate for you to love me. To feel something for me. Something that goes beyond friendship or physical attraction. I want you. I love you. But I need you to feel something for me. I need you to be blinded by passion because of me, because of who I am, not because I made myself come to thoughts of you.”

Seb released her and backed away slowly until his ass hit the vanity. She didn’t need him dry-fucking her, simulating sex while she poured out her heart. She needed his head in the game, not just his dick.

“I do love you, Loo. You know that. I love the way you laugh at silly things and cry in sad movies. I love the way you never stop talking—even though I always complain you talk too much. I love the sound of your voice, love how happy it always makes me. I love how I can talk to you about anything, and just be quiet when I’m not up to conversation. I love that you and I made it, when you and Leo didn’t, and I love that we can be friends regardless of what’s going on with either of us sexually or romantically. I love that you can cry on my shoulder when your heart is broken, or blush when you describe how turned on you are by whichever guy you’re seeing at the time. And right now…”

He took a deep, shuddery breath. “Right now, I fucking love how you feel wrapped around my finger, love how you taste on my tongue. I love how you came so hard, so intensely, how you weren’t afraid to show me what—and who—turned you on. I love you because of who you are, because of what you are and because of how you are.”

Seb scrubbed his head and then pressed his palm to his throbbing dick. “I love you, love everything about you, and yeah, it’s fair to say that tonight I’m blinded by passion.” He squeezed his eyes shut, loath to say the next words but knowing he had to. “Does it mean I’m in love with you? Hell, babe, I can’t think past what’s going on right here and right now. Can’t sift through my feelings and determine what’s friendship, what’s physical and what’s…more.” He frowned, hating himself. “If there is more.”

Chapter Four

Lucy seemed to listen to his every word. She didn’t take her gaze off him as he spoke. She rubbed angrily at her tears until they stopped falling, blinking hard until her eyes dried. Her breath came in sharp, loud inhalations but began to even off the more he said. Her expression changed several times. She looked heartbroken, then desperate. A smile twitched at her lips, then vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

Now she just looked determined. “
If
there’s more?” she asked as she tackled her jeans, shimmying this way then that in an effort to free her feet of them. His gaze was drawn first to the sinuous twist of her hips and then to her jiggling breasts, then back to her twisting hips and her pink pussy winking at him from below her shaven mound.

Shaven, so smooth against his cheek. So silky to touch. So fucking sexy.

He began to sweat.

“So there could be more? There’s a chance?”

He held out his hands as if to halt her questions and her probing. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. If you’re asking could there be more physically, er, fuck, yeah.” As if he even needed to state the obvious. “Emotionally? I can’t say. Don’t wanna say because I’m just not sure.”

“You thinking with your dick now, Seb?” One foot slid out of her jeans, and she kicked them across the bathroom. Her shirt followed as she flung it in the same direction. She left her bra where it was, making another trickle of sweat slither down Seb’s back.

Jesus, she was fucking gorgeous. Curves in all the right places. Legs that wouldn’t quit, and tits that filled his palms and fit against his tongue just right. The torn bra framing those magnificent tits made his mouth water.

This vision before him wasn’t his friend. She wasn’t the woman he knew so well. She was a seductress, a siren, a living wet dream. And she had his balls tied in knots.

“Sure not using my head now. Not with you standing naked.”

It was her turn to slide to her knees before him. “What’ll your dick think if I wrap my lips around it and suck it ’til you come? Think it’ll tell you we have a chance, you and me?”

Seb grabbed the vanity and held on for dear life. “All my dick’s saying is that if I don’t let you suck it, I will regret it for the rest of my living life.”

“Can’t have regrets, now can we, my friend? Can’t let you live with those.”

Her movements were seamless. She undid his button and slid his zip down in a heartbeat, then pushed his cargos and boxers down his hips before he’d loosened his hold on the vanity. Waste of time releasing it, because the second her mouth wrapped around the head of his dripping cock, he grabbed the damn basin with a viselike grip.

Her hair fell around her face, hiding it, tickling the tops of his thighs and his stomach.

Oh, fuck.

He’d never been harder in his life. Never been more aroused. The feel of those lips around his dick? All hot and wet, gliding up, gliding down, her tongue licking as she sucked?

Jesus, fuck. So good.

Heaven and hell. Heaven because that’s how her mouth felt. Hell, because the moment her tongue made contact he was ready to come.

Hell too, because this wasn’t just anybody giving him head, wasn’t a girlfriend or a lover or a quick lay going down on him. It was his friend.

Hell, because as much as he wanted to toss her to the floor and fuck her until they both came, screaming, he did not want to lead her on.

Which was a fine mess, seeing as he couldn’t control his wild thrusting now, couldn’t seem to stop fucking her mouth, driving into her warm depths as she blew him.

Talk about not leading her on. Her name echoed through the bathroom, a hoarse moan that reverberated through his ears and across his spine, settling in the small of his back, where tingles spread at an alarming rate.

She had a hand on his balls, massaging them as she sucked, and a finger rubbing him just behind his sac, making him see goddamned stars.

But perhaps the thing that turned him on the most, turned him inside fucking out, was her groan. He grabbed handfuls of her hair, bunching it up atop her head so he could see her mouth as she worked him, watch the pink lips sliding up and down, watch her cheeks purse and relax.

Sexy. So fucking sexy. But not half as arousing as the other sight that greeted him: her free hand disappearing between her legs. He couldn’t see exactly what she did to herself from this angle, but the muscles bunched in her slim, toned arm, and her wrist moved fast.

He knew, though. Knew what she was doing, because not five minutes earlier, he’d watched her doing it.

Come bubbled in his gland. His dick, fucking hard as it was, thickened further.

Another hoarse, feminine moan echoed through the room, this one sounding as frustrated as it did aroused.