Mistake.

With a moan and a sigh mixed together, Holly lets her knees fall open. The core of her, where heat radiates even through her clothing, cradles me, and my cock presses against the fly of my pants. Now, I’m the one rhythmically moving my hips, unable to stop miming the action of thrusting into her. She pants into my mouth, little gasping breaths that boil my blood and stuff my head with lust-soaked cotton.

We should slow down.

How did we go from friends to dry-humping in twenty-four hours?

Somehow, I stop my body’s movement and try to focus only on the honey taste of her mouth. But that’s hard to do when she grabs my hand and guides it up under her shirt.

Beneath her thick UPenn sweatshirt, Holly’s decided to forgo a bra. Luckily, Terra left for the library when the cooking was done because I can’t stifle the animalistic groan I let out.

Her breast is small, not even really a handful, but it’s soft, and her nipple is a tight little bead I pinch and tease as she writhes beneath me. My lips break from hers, and I make my way, biting and licking, across her jaw and down her neck, enjoying the silky texture of her skin against my curious tongue.

“Ah! Ben …” she moans my name.

My hips give an involuntary thrust. I’m going to come in my pants if I keep this up. That doesn’t stop me from sliding down her body while pulling Holly’s sweatshirt up to reveal her naked chest.

For a moment, I just stare, relishing the view. The image of her prone beneath me will forever linger in my brain, demanding I find a pencil or brush to re-create the sight. But drawing this once won’t be enough. I’m sure I’ll never be able to lend anyone my notes again because the margins are going to be full of sketches detailing the perfect way Holly’s breasts pool on her chest, pulled to the sides by gravity but still maintaining their natural curves. The minute my mind drifts, I know I’ll be back in this moment, fixated on the exact button shape of her rosy nipples.

The glorious girl shifts beneath me, huffing out a frustrated sigh. About to tease her for the impatience, I’m surprised with the brush of a rigid nipple against my mouth as she tangles her fingers in my hair and pulls me down while arching her back.

“Lick me. Please.”

Again, like an animal, I growl and then use my lips, teeth, and tongue to worship her breasts. Her little noises are only fuel to my fire, and she doesn’t need to beg for me to continue. I hold her to me with one hand on the middle of her back while she presses her fingers into the spot where the skin of my neck disappears beneath my hairline.

I wish she would push harder, using enough force to bruise me. My skin should be marked by her, a permanent reminder of this moment.