Free Stripped by Allie Juliette Mousseau Page A

and bold all at the same time.
    “Can I kiss you, Em? I’ve been dying to taste your lips and tongue all night.”
    I little sound escapes her and she nods. “Please do.”
    I tangle my fingers and hands into the length of her mane and massage the back of her scalp, slowly pulling her mouth nearer to mine.
    I brush my lips against hers in soft, tentative kisses that hint of desire. It’s not enough. They’re only making me hungrier.
    “Does that feel good?”
    “Yeah.”
    Immediately after she answers, I gently but firmly fist her hair, pulling her head back to allow me better access.
    “How about this?” I slam my mouth over hers as her lips part open in a gasp of pleasure.
    Oh Christ! She tastes of dry red wine with a hint of sweet cherry lip gloss.
    When she swipes a bold lick of her tongue across my bottom lip, it extracts a wanton groan from my throat.
    I think I’ve died and gone to fantasy heaven. But it’s oh so much fucking better, because she’s real, soft flesh, pounding pulse, and breathy blissful noises.
    Our kisses quickly become all lips and tongues as we grind our mouths together.
    Her narrow hips stay hovered just above mine, but knowing access to her soft center is mere inches from the beast is making me employ every ounce of willpower not to jack my hips up to meet her.
    Dial it down, Stone … is the first and last thought I have of this nature, because as soon as I think it, Emelie presses her luscious tits against my chest.
    As she slides to get a bit of friction, her nipples grow hard like flesh-covered diamonds, and I’m dying to get under that flimsy cotton shirt of hers.
    When we break to come up for air, I say, “Your mouth is officially my favorite flavor.”
    She blushes and giggles softly.
    Then, too soon, her eyes grow serious. Too serious.
    “What is it? What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?” I ask then reassure, “I’m okay with that.” I release my hands from her hair and cup her face gently. “I really like you… and want you. Every time I get near you, I am bloody fucking turned on by you—like white flame hot. Our combined oxygen, heat, and fuel creates some seriously combustible conditions I’d like to explore more fully, but I don’t want to blow this friendship we’re beginning or make you say no to coaching me. And I definitely don’t want to put you in any uncomfortable positions…” I trace a fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “Only mutually pleasurable ones.”
    “Stone…”
    “Before you tell me no, it’s obvious you make my cock wrought iron hard, Em. In fact, if you lower your delicious hips just a few inches you’ll find out exactly how hard that is, but I know how to take care of the beast myself. Despite my crude talk, I am a gentleman. My parents raised me right—”
    Emelie raises a finger to my lips to shush me. “You seriously have such a dirty mouth! It adds to your charm.”
    Whew, that’s relieving.
    “However, I have a few… dilemmas I’m not sure how to handle.”
    “Well, I’m your problem solver. Let’s get ’em sorted.”
    She squeezes her eyes shut, and she almost talks more to herself than to me. “This will all be easier to say because I’ll be returning to New York after the summer, so any embarrassment I suffer will be smoothed away.”
    She hasn’t moved. Despite her slamming on the brakes, she’s still floating above my straining Johnson, who is not understanding the weight of our conversation, whatsoever.
    “It’s been a seriously long time since anyone has… touched me. Or fucked me.”
    My Johnson fully comprehended the meaning of those last two words, but I don’t think he quite got the memo on the past tense grammar.
    “Shortly after my accident, my fiancé broke our engagement… by sticking his dick in my understudy’s mouth.”
    “Emelie, I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what the accident was, what I am sure of—thanks to the info from Vi—was that not only did the douchebag not protect her