I slide my hand across her waist, feeling the goose bumps appear from under me. The way her body responds to me is fucking hot. It fuels me to keep going in sexual torture.
I grip a hand on each side of her panties and forcefully rip them apart. “We won’t be needing these,” I quip.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you smart ass?” I feel her eyes looking down at me with fury as I continue teasing and torturing her. Before I let her spit anymore out at me, I aggressive push a finger in.
“Oh my god,” she whimpers, the most beautiful sound in the world. I shove another one in, getting the same reaction, only louder.
“Let me hear you, sweetheart.”
I twist my fingers in and out of her until I’m completely soaked in her desire. I remove them just as I cup her with my mouth, soaking up all her wetness.
“Oh, holy shit,” she breaths, trying to grasp for me with her tied-up hands.
“No touching,” I remind her, smiling against her soft skin. I continue playfully torturing her into an intense frenzy. The way she comes around me is the most beautiful thing in the world. She made life worth living. Unbelievable how the one thing you need the most, is the one person who needs you the most. Only knowing Velaney for a few short months, I already knew I was going to marry her. When someone changes you for the better and loves you despite all your faults, you better marry that person, swoop them up and claim their body as yours—otherwise someone smarter than you will.
“Holy shit, babe. You are fucking torture,” she spits out. Damn, I love the way she swears now. Even her little spits of swearing are hot.
I’m just about to rip my jeans off when a loud, forceful knock interrupts. “Who the hell is that?”
“Carissa probably locked herself out. She went to go do our laundry.”
I sigh and pull my jeans back up. Damn, roommate.
“Hold on!” Velaney yells as I scramble to release her hands. She fists her clothes off the floor and quickly dresses before answering the door.
I see her peek through the peephole as I pull my shirt back over my head. She gasps and takes a step back.
“What is it?” I ask, but without letting her respond, I catch up to her and look for myself.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she mumbles, locking her eyes on the door.
“Who is it?” I ask, not recognizing the woman.