Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

Chad was ready to playfully accuse Molly of some minor mischief, inching closer to what he called the "tip of the iceberg." Molly, wrapped tightly in her quilt, immediately propped herself up in bed, her voice muffled and panicked, "It wasn't me who did it."

From inside her quilt fortress, Molly's words came out in muffled protests.

Chad, undeterred, leaned over her, his hand sneaking under the quilt, moving slowly from her stomach upwards. "Chad, where do you think you're touching!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of alarm and laughter.

Trapped under the quilt and Chad's playful weight, Molly couldn't help but abandon her denials. She felt pinned, her soft front pressed down, as she protested, "Chad, get your hand out, now." Molly's movements were restricted, her leverage gone.

Chad flipped the quilt aside, tossing it off the bed.

The red quilt, a symbol of their love and union, fell onto the sleek, hardwood floor. Underneath, Molly's nightdress was hiked up to her waist, Chad's presence overwhelming like a mountain.

Molly tried to push herself up in a push-up stance, but her slender arms and legs weren't helping her rise. Instead, they seemed to intrigue Chad even further.

Feeling the change in Chad's breath on her neck, Molly, new to the experiences of womanhood since last night, knew something was amiss but couldn't place what.

Frozen, she dared not move. She tried to keep her breathing steady, aware now of Chad's predatory gaze, him being the wolf in the forest, and herself, the startled rabbit in his sights. Chad, from behind, took in every detail of Molly.

Their proximity allowed him to catch her scent, driving him almost to the point of no return.

Molly, lying beneath him, felt his hand pressing down on her chest, "Chad, remember what you promised this morning, that you wouldn't push things today," she said, her voice trembling.

listening. His free hand began to trace her neck, his touch both threatening and strangely comforting, his

robe clung to Molly, as Chad's hands pulled

her sentence, her body trembling as she felt his warm breath on her

dress slipped down, the other soon to follow,

situation spiraled beyond Molly's control, but then Chad gave her a

Chad silenced her protests with

devoid of any barriers, facilitated Chad's advances, the nightdress discarded on the floor, leaving

protests faded into soft whimpers, her confusion and cries drowned by deeper penetrations and more

were

fish on a cutting board, too tired to even speak, her legs giving out, losing track of time until Chad finally came back to his senses, giving her

for good. "Wearing it is just in the way;

"That's the one that bit my medal. Molly,

breathy, asked,

kiss, his tongue

morning, Molly insisted on setting boundaries, which only delayed turning

time, Molly dared not

Chad, despite

late at night, his hand finding her waist. Molly closed her eyes

up, and Molly peeked,