Chapter 5 I Just Want To Touch You

AGNES

I woke up to the feeling of sun rays splashed across my skin, yawning carelessly.

I stretched my arms and opened my eyes only to find his arm over my body, holding me close to him even in his sleep.

The memories of last night came pouring in, sending waves of heat down my body.

It had been real, I thought.

Last night was not a dream.

Adams had made my fantasies come true.

I could still feel the heat of his hands on my skin, the urgency of his mouth, the way he had called out my name as we came undone.

Instinctively, I snapped my thighs shut, remembering how far he had spread them apart—his thick cock thrusting deep inside me, stretching me until I screamed, my walls clenching around him in desperate rhythm.

Now he was sleeping so innocently by my side after all the dirty things he did to me yesterday.

I stayed still, watching the way his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

His features had a softness that he never wore when he was awake.

All of a sudden, I felt moved to touch him, I wanted to trace my finger across his jaw, his lips, the bridge of his nose.

I wanted to memorize him.

I lifted my hand to his face, trying to steady my trembling wrist.

Why was I so anxious to touch him, like I didn’t touch him last night?

Sighing softly, I braced myself and lowered my hand to his chin, but right before I could make contact, his hand shot with lightning speed and grabbed my wrist.

I gasped in shock as his eyes snapped open.

“What were you trying to do?” he asked, his voice deep and husky from sleep.

“I…I just wanted to touch you,” I replied to him softly, avoiding his eyes.

Adams scoffed and before I could react, he pulled me even closer to him and lowered his mouth to mine.

“Adams…” I moaned into the kiss, losing the will to push him away.

He climbed on top of me as we kissed, his mouth stealing whatever reasonable thought I had to say.

His tongue invaded my mouth, tasting me hungrily, while his free hand slid down to cup my breast, pinching my nipple hard enough to make me arch into him with a whimper.

Suddenly, he broke the kiss, leaving me dazed and annoyed.

“What are you doing?”

Adams didn’t respond.

Instead, he pressed his erection against my thigh, making me moan out in response.

It was rock-hard, throbbing against my skin, the heat of it sending fresh slickness between my legs.

“Didn’t you want to touch me?” he asked as he pulled my thighs apart, pressing his hard cock against my entrance.

The tip nudged my folds, teasing my swollen clit, already dripping from the night before.

“Yes… please,” I nodded desperately, the ache between my legs calling out to him, wanting to be filled up.

I bucked my hips, trying to take him in, but he held me down with a firm grip on my waist.

Adams smirked at my expression, then he lowered his head to my ear. “Since you want me so bad, I guess I have to give you what you want.”

He thrust into me in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

I cried out, my nails digging into his back as he stretched me wide, my pussy gripping him like a vice.

He didn’t give me time to adjust—his hips snapped forward relentlessly, pounding into me with raw, animalistic force.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, his hand sliding between us to rub my clit in rough circles. “Come for me, Agnes. Milk my cock like the dirty girl you are.”

I shattered almost immediately, my orgasm ripping through me as I screamed his name, my body convulsing around him.

He followed soon after, spilling hot and deep inside me with a guttural moan, his teeth grazing my neck.

We stayed like that before we finally stumbled into the kitchen by noon, my legs weak and sore, my hair a mess, but my heart full—and my pussy still throbbing from how thoroughly he’d used me.

Adams was in front of the counter dressed in nothing but sweatpants, his hair still damp from the shower.

The outline of his semi-hard cock was visible through the fabric, making my mouth water.

I stood in front of the stove, trying to focus on the eggs I was supposed to be frying, pretending like I wasn’t staring at the curve of his muscles every time he moved—or imagining dropping to my knees and sucking him off right there.

“You are going to burn those eggs if you keep staring at me,” Adams commented without looking up, focused on the bread he was buttering like it was the most serious task in the world.

“I am not staring,” I lied defensively, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“So why are your eggs already turning brown?” Adams asked with a raised brow.

“Oh shit…”

The smoke of the eggs made me face them and I immediately turned off the stove, cursing underneath my breath while he laughed.

The sound of his deep laughter filled the kitchen and I raised my head, watching how carefree he looked in that moment.

I felt something warm spread across my chest like we weren’t two people entangled in forbidden desire, like we were just… together.

After the eggs were ruined, I decided to make pancakes.

Adams came to my side as I poured in the flour.

This time, I tried not to get distracted by his presence.

I spun around for the sugar when he suddenly swiped a finger across my cheek.

“What are you doing?” I asked, only for me to notice his flour-filled hands.

He had stained my cheek with flour.

I gasped in mock outrage and dipped my hand in flour, trying to retaliate, but he caught my wrist easily and pinned my hands behind my back with an arm.

His body pressed against mine, his cock hardening against my ass as he ground into me teasingly.

“This isn’t fair,” I complained, annoyed that I couldn’t retaliate—but secretly loving how he dominated me so effortlessly.

Adams smiled. “Well, life isn’t fair, sweetheart.”

I huffed angrily and then he lowered his head to mine, kissing me right there in the kitchen, making me forget why I was even angry.

His tongue plunged deep, claiming my mouth while one hand slipped under my shirt to fondle my breast, rolling my nipple until it peaked hard and aching.

I moaned into him, grinding back against his erection, feeling it twitch in response.

He broke the kiss only to spin me around, hoist me onto the counter, and yank my panties aside. “Spread your legs,” he commanded, dropping to his knees.

Before I could protest, his mouth was on me—tongue lapping at my clit with filthy precision, sucking and flicking until I was writhing, my hands fisting his hair.

He slid two fingers inside me, curling them against that spot that made me see stars, pumping hard as he devoured my pussy like he was starving.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured against my folds.

I came hard on his face, thighs clamping around his head, juices coating his chin.

For a moment, it was perfect.

Everything was.

We had breakfast and ate together until it was time for him to leave for work—though not before he bent me over the table for one last quick, brutal fuck, leaving me dripping his cum down my thighs.

“I will miss you,” I whispered like a lovesick idiot as he stood by the door.

“Just stay out of trouble. I will be back soon,” he replied, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

And then he left.

I watched his car disappear down the street, feeling an unfamiliar ache in my chest.

Why did he affect me this much?

Wasn’t it just sex?

Thinking about the way my heart had swelled when he kissed my forehead goodbye made me pause.

It had never been just sex, at least not with Adams.

We had had such a perfect morning.

If I stayed here forever, would all our mornings be like this?

It all just felt too good to be true.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out only to find that I had gotten a new message.

Grabbing a glass of water from the table, I swiped it open while taking a sip.

And then the glass slipped from my hand, crashing to the floor loudly as I saw the message.

UNKNOWN: How long did you think you could hide from me, Agnes? Did you forget who you sent those sexy pictures to? Meet me tonight at our usual spot or everyone in your family will see those pictures. And tell your new fuckboy Adams to watch his back—I know all about him now.

My blood ran cold.

My fingers trembled as I held the phone, trying to steady myself.

No, it couldn’t be.