Hayden’s lips found her ear and kissed softly down to her earlobe. He sucked it into his mouth and she breathed out heavily, her body instantly pushing back against his on the couch. His hand trailed lightly down her side as his mouth moved to kiss along the gentle curve of her neck.
Liz’s heart picked up tempo quickly. The sleep she had been fighting to hold back disappeared entirely when his hand skimmed the front of her pants. Her body arched against him, urging him to continue. Taking her invitation, he delved beneath the material and slid his finger against the soft material of her thong. Liz swallowed hard, unable to keep her breathing under control. His finger brushed against her clit and she moaned in the back of her throat.
Ignoring the desperate bucking of her hips to get him to return to that spot, he ran his hand slowly up her right thigh and then the left. Her body arched against him. She was already turned on from his teasing kisses against her neck and the way he was moving his hands just out of reach.
Then he was there, slipping his finger under her thong and swiping it against her already wet lips. Fuck! How was she so turned on? She could feel the beginning of an orgasm already rippling through her body, but with those teasing touches, Hayden could hold her off as long as he kept it up.
He circled her sensitive area with his thumb and she dropped her head back. Her eyes closed of their own accord. All she could think about was how close she was. She wouldn’t even need his tongue at this point. If he just put his fingers up in her, she would find the release she so desperately craved.
“Hayden,” she murmured as he kept up the gentle swirling motion. “Fuck! I’m so close. Finger me.”
He turned his head toward her and they started kissing just as he plunged two fingers deep inside of her. She gasped at the feel of him, and he used the opportunity to stick his tongue inside her mouth. They kissed as he started to move in and out while continuing to press her toward the edge. Her body shuddered from the pressure as a climax hit her and she clenched around his fingers.
“You’re kind of hot when you tell me what to do,” he whispered against her neck.
Liz smiled lazily and adjusted how she was sitting. Her ass rubbed against his dick and her breath caught. Shit! He wasn’t kidding. He was rock-hard through his pants.
She rolled over to face him and started kissing him again. Her hand moved into his pants. She gripped his dick in her hand and he groaned her name. It was seductive—she really f**king liked the way he said Lizzie. She pumped her hand up and down a few times before brushing her thumb against the tip. He responded instantly, bucking against her hand.
Bending down, Liz started pulling his pants off his hips and down his legs. Then her mouth found the tip and she swished her tongue along the sensitive skin. She brought him all the way into her mouth and then started up a rhythm—in then out, swish, in and out. His body responded wonderfully to the way she pulled all the way back and then wrapped her lips around him until they met the base. He must have been really f**king turned on, because his body was already telling her that he was close.
“Lizzie,” he said, stilling her where she sat.
She almost ignored him, but something in his voice made her pull back.
When their eyes met, he smiled with a knowing glint in his eye. Then he rolled her over on the couch until her body was pressed underneath. He pulled her pants down her legs so she was lying before him in just her underwear, and then started grinding against her.
Her legs came up immediately to wrap around his waist as he thrust forward against the thin material of her thong. She was soaking through from her earlier orgasm and all she could think about at this point was the way his dick was rubbing up against her.
“Hayden,” she moaned, her eyes closing as the material shifted and he slid against bare skin. Oh God! She could not contain how badly she wanted him in that moment, and she didn’t want to. Her fingers brushed at the side of her underwear. He seemed to understand her meaning. He yanked them to the floor, found a condom, and rolled it on.
She brought her hips back up to meet him, so ready to feel him. Her body was shaking with the anticipation.
He moved his c**k down before her opening and she whimpered. Four months. She had waited four months. An interminable period of time. She wanted him to take her. She wanted to be his, mind, body, and soul.
His eyes met her for approval and she lifted her hips to meet him in response. Then he slid easily deep into her.
Hayden felt amazing. Perfect. Just as she had always expected him to. And the moment was right. Perfect. Just as she had always wanted it to be with him.
He started up a slow rhythm, feeling her walls expand to let him fill her and then pulling back out. Then he thrust back into her over and over and over again. She could feel her body crumbling, falling apart, giving in to Hayden’s every movement. Her breathing was uneven and her mind blissfully empty, save for the passion and energy radiating from her and the need she felt for this man.
Liz met him for each stroke, but both of them were already so close. She could feel her body tightening around him each time, aching to let loose. She opened her mouth to tell him how close she was and then she exploded around him, her lower half pulsing around his cock. Hayden’s entire body shuddered and then he came deep inside of her.
He dropped forward and rested his head on her shoulder. Neither one could even begin to try for coherent speech. All Liz could think about was how incredible that had felt.
She knew this changed everything.
But she was glad for the change. Finally glad for the change.
A month after the snow day, Liz sat in front of a crowded auditorium for the first-ever colloquium on political journalism at UNC. Today was the big day that she and Professor Mires had been working toward all year. A year of work culminated in one day of activity, and all Liz could think about was the fact that she had to give a speech. Her palms were sweating, her throat felt as if she had swallowed a bottle of cotton balls¸ and her wavy blond hair was sticking to the back of her neck. She hated public speaking. Hated it. She always had.
That was part of the reason she wanted to be a reporter. She was fantastic one-on-one or even in a crowd of reporters, and even better on paper. But she hadn’t signed up to speak in front of a large group of people and have them all stare at her. She had purposely avoided broadcast journalism, because she would rather be behind the camera than in front of it. How did people become so comfortable doing this?