Free Adrian Lessons by L.A Rose Page B

between a laugh and a groan. The water plasters her clothes to her body, highlighting the outline of her full, gorgeous breasts. I caress one, then the other.
    “I missed your perfect tits,” I growl into her ear, and she moans, arching her back so her body is pressed firmly into me. “Looks like they missed me too. Now keep talking.”
    “He bites my neck gently,” shudders Cleo, as I continue to do what she’s describing. “It feels like electricity…he…oh, God…he kisses his way down the exposed skin on my chest and licks the space above my breasts. It feels so good. I never want him to stop…”
    I’m never going to stop. Whatever train we’ve climbed on is speeding toward one destination. I want to make her come through her jeans. I’ve been holding back, but no longer. I’m going to push her over the edge.
    “I’m going to make you come so hard,” I breathe. “Without taking any of your clothes off. I’m going to make you forget what it’s like to have your feet on the ground.”
    “Oh my God, Adrian…”
    I grind my finger into the spot where I know her clit is. I’m not wrong. She pants heavily into my neck, shivers running down her whole spine, as I stroke and rub, alternating pressure.
    “I’m going to…I’m going…fuck…” she near-screams into the night.
    “Come for me,” I say into her skin. “And I promise…eventually you’ll see how much better my clothes-off orgasms are than my clothes-on.”
    She writhes against me. She’s so close. I slow down, dangling the treat she wants just an inch away, letting the fire inside her build up, and then—
    “What the hell are you people doing?”
    I turn my head and get blinded by a flashlight beam. The voice is the unmistakably gruff, authoritative one of a cop.
    I make the well-reasoned decision to spend the rest of my life pursuing the dismantlement of the police force.
    Cleo shivers against me, soaking wet, her legs trembling. I don’t know if she’s capable of running right now. Or even standing on her own.
    So I hoist her onto my back.
    “Hold on tight,” I whisper before leaping out of the fountain and running off into the night toward Marie’s car, the cop shouting after us but too slow to catch up, the most beautiful girl in the world with her cheek pressed against the back of my neck.
     
    ~7~
    CLEO
     
    He is impossibly sexy. There’s just enough light left in the sky for me to see the way his soaked shirt clings to every muscle on his body, the curvature of his abs, all the powerful shapes of him. I explore him with my hands, feeling the warm skin of his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders. He’s mine, this perfect body, mine to touch the way I see fit. I never imagined anything like this.
    His eyes are deep and passionate, focused on me like I’m the source of everything good in the world. He could have any girl, but at the moment, I’m not lost in the particular mystery of why he chose me. I’m lost in his skin, his warmth. The line of his jaw pressing into me as he sets my skin on fire with his mouth. His hardness pressing into my thigh. His hand, somehow finding the right spot beneath my clothes, drawing such an aching pleasure out of me that I didn’t even know was hidden in my body. I’m about to scream—
    “Oh my God, yes!”
    I snap back to reality, the ache between my thighs fading a little, but not enough. Marie is reading over my shoulder, pausing every so often to clap with delight. “This is perfect, Cleo! Our little Adrian exercise was a great idea.”
    I press my thighs together, thinking of moldy seagull sandwiches, my least favorite fourth grade teacher’s buttcrack, anything to stop being irrepressibly horny in front of my roommate.
    Nope. No luck. “I still can’t believe you sprung that on me,” I say, to disguise the fact that I’m currently mired in primordial lust.
    “It was an emergency. Adrian’s an expert. It worked, right? Besides, you loved it.”
    “Pfffftggggh. No, like.