Page 42 of Proposal Play
I feel wild. “I think Ialmostremember now,” I say.
“Better make sure,” he taunts.
“Yeah, I better.” I take his taunt and turn it up a notch. I climb onto his lap, bracketing his face with my hands, and kiss him—a deep, passionate kiss that makes me feel out of control. That makes me feel free.
Before I know it, I’m straddling him, my short skirt hiked up as I rock against the outline of his hard cock. And wow—what an outline it is. Thick and pulsing, and I should not know that about Asher. I really shouldn’t. This is a bad idea. Such a bad idea. We’re friends. We’re just playing around. This is just a practice kiss.
I have to say that. I have to make some boundaries clear. I wrench away. “This is just kissing. Nothing more.”
His lips quirk into a grin. “I know. Don’t worry—I’m not going to try anything.”
“I know,” I say, but a nagging voice in the back of my mind wants to ask why he seemed tense earlier, what that emotion was. But then he curves a palm around the back of my thigh, tugging me closer, and my questions scatter like alphabet soup. “Is this…part of how to kiss?” I ask.
He slides his palm higher, dangerously close to my ass. “A good kiss includes hands, Maeve.”
“Well then,” I say, then curl my hands around his shoulders and cover his lips with mine.
“Good girl,” he encourages, and fuck me.
He gives praise so confidently that my head swimswith his woodsy scent, with the sound of his breath, with the feel of his strong hands.
Impulsively, I rock against the ridge of his erection.
He tenses for a second or two, like he’s battling with himself, but then I can feel afuck itmove through his body as he tugs a little harder on the back of my thighs.
Boundaries. What even are they? I’m off and running. With barely a thought. With only this ache between my thighs, this need in my body.
I kiss and grind, and it vaguely occurs to me I’m dry-humping my best friend.
But I don’t want to think too hard about what that means, because it feels so good, my belly is tightening, coiling, then…
Out of nowhere, an orgasm slams into me.
It grips my whole body, and I’m gasping, tensing, and then shuddering on my best friend’s lap.
I’ve gone off in less than a minute.
My mind crackles. My body turns white-hot and electric as I fall apart on my friend. My hundred-thousand-dollar date. My temporary husband.
When I pull away, I’m shocked. And honestly, embarrassed.
Asher looks stunned. In his wide eyes, his slightly parted lips.
I am too. “I didn’t see that coming,” I say, pun not intended.
After a surprised second or two, he says, “I didn’t either.”
My lips part. “Was that like a premature orgasm?” I ask, a little horrified, a lot embarrassed.
He grins. He can’t seem to stop smiling. It’s a verysatisfied smile. “I didn’t even know that was a thing for a woman.”
“Me neither,” I squeak, and scurry off him.
I didn’t mean for this remember-how-to-kiss session to turn into how-to-come-in-under-sixty-seconds.
I cover my mouth with my hand, mortified that I shot off like that. I have no idea what to do.
“I’m going to shower,” I squeak, sounding like Minnie Mouse as I bolt.