Bad Influencer by Kenzie Reed

Chapter Twenty-Two

Elliott

The kiss is soft and tender at first, almost chaste. I wrap my arms around her and I feel a strange, wrenching ache in my chest for the sadness she’s endured. I’ll probably feel angry, later, about the way her family have treated her, but right now I just want to hold her close and kiss the hurt away. She’s a ray of sunshine, a spark of pure joy, and they’ve poured cold water and scorn on her until she just… fizzled. Well, I’m not going to let them; I’m going to reignite her.

I run the tip of my tongue along her lower lip, and she smiles against my mouth, then opens to me, allowing me to slip my tongue inside and explore the sweet recesses of her mouth. Her tongue plays against mine, and she gives a contented moan as I deepen the kiss. I take it as an invitation and pull her closer, running my hands down the curve of her spine to her ass. She moans again and wriggles against me, and this time the sound holds a note of anticipation and need. My body responds, my cock stiffening in my pants, and I pull her hard against me to let her know the effect she has on me.

The grungy T-shirt and sweatpants hit the floor, and I tug at the bobby pins in her hair until it tumbles down, adorably tousled, around her face. Now she’s standing facing me, wearing nothing but pink cotton panties with Snoopy on the front, and I have never seen anything sexier in my life. This is probably how fetishes get started.

I swing her into my arms, and she yelps with delight. She sounds like Jillian—not the morose, gray-faced Jillian who greeted me at the door, but my Jillian—and my heart lifts.

Even she can’t make snorts of laughter sexy as I lurch clumsily through three doors before I find the room with the bed in it. It’s not malicious, she just likes to see me make a clown of myself because, god help her, she has a soft spot for fools. Lucky for me, because I am a total fool for her. But as soon as she’s sprawled on the coverlet and she sees the hunger in my eyes, her gleeful expression turns to one of naked desire.

I stalk towards her, unbuttoning my shirt and shrugging it off. I kick off my shoes. My eyes never leave hers as I unfasten my belt, and as I push down my pants and boxers, my erection springs free. I’m painfully hard, aching to be balls-deep inside her soft heat, and I know it shows on my face.

As I join her on the bed, she wriggles out of the Snoopy panties, and I tumble her backwards so I’m lying on top of her, between her parted thighs, heated skin against heated skin. All it takes is a squirm of her pliant body, and her slick heat is right there against the rigid length of my cock. A maddening invitation.

I know I should slow things down, engage in foreplay, tick off a few “good sex” boxes—lick this, suck that, fondle the other. But I just can’t. All I want is to be inside her, and she’s so close, and she feels so good. And thank God, what I need is what Jillian needs too, because she presses wordlessly against me, inviting me inside, and I push into her with a single hard thrust.

The feeling is almost too good. I have to hold myself still for a moment and catch my breath as a lightning bolt of pure lust and sensation fuses my spine and sets lights flashing behind my eyes. All I can hear is my blood rushing in my ears, but I know from Jillian’s parted lips and fluttering lashes that she’s moaning softly beneath me.

As soon as I’ve gathered enough control to be sure I’m not going to embarrass myself, I start to move. With each thrust, I circle my hips a little, making sure that every stroke grazes her clit, focusing on plunging deep and withdrawing slowly, watching the pleasure build on her face.

Her head thrashes against the pillow and a crimson flush paints her cheeks. But even without those telltale signs, I’d know she was close, because her pussy is pulsing and fluttering around me in a way that’s driving me out of my mind. Nothing has ever felt so good. My whole body is humming with this fierce electric arousal that’s going to explode at any second into showers of sparks and fireworks.

I know the moment Jillian’s orgasm hits, because her body goes rigid and her pussy clenches around me for a long, fierce moment. She bites her lip and squeezes her eyes closed, breath held, then moans and quivers as she’s shaken by a cascade of sweet spasms.

It’s enough. It’s too much. I bury my face against my shoulder to muffle my shout as I come hard and fast, pushing inside her as far as I can, finding my bliss inside her eager body. She’s still writhing underneath me, still riding the aftershocks of her own electrifying climax, and I slow my movements, gentling my thrusts, rocking inside and against her to coax out every last spark of sensation.

Eventually we fall still, tangled together in a lazy, exhausted embrace, and my reward is a long, soft sigh full of happiness and contentment. She nestles against me, warm and sleepy, and I know there’s nowhere else in the world I would rather be and nothing else I would rather be doing.