He didn’t know her name, he’d missed that part of the conversation, too busy downing shot after drink, after shot, to really care much past the fact she was blonde and hot. And small. He reckoned he could lift her with his pinky finger. But damn, did she have curves. They were at her place, he thought. The décor was unfamiliar and definitely not his.
But. Whatever.
James had more important things to worry about. Like how fucking soft she was, how he kinda wanted to get her breasts in his mouth, wanted to feel how wet she was, wanted to bite into her skin until he tasted blood.
He forced her up against the hallway wall, the picture frames rattling, one falling, shattering. He didn’t give a fuck, just kept kissing her, large hand slipping beneath her shirt, fondling her without care. “Wanna just fuck here?” he asked her, breathless, words rough against her lips as he chuckled, not pausing to wonder why he wasn’t yet hard.
He was drunk. They’d get there. Maybe he’d make her suck his dick first, too. Yeah. That sounded nice. He kissed down her neck, nipping at the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Or you want me to finger you open on the bed first? Lady’s choice.”
@xcbcby