“I hope that’s good,” I said, squirming a little when his fingers went wandering up my thighs.
“Very much so,” he mumbled, his mouth hot on my neck as he started nibbling there, making shivers go up my back.
“Do you happen to have any condoms?” I asked, arching my back when his hands slid up to my breasts, his fingers teasing them until they were two demanding little hussies who wanted his mouth that instant. “I have some, but they’re somewhere in my bag.”
“Nightstand,” he said, the word muffled since he was now kissing the valley between my hussies, his thumbs and tongue torturing me with exquisite pleasure. I squirmed around on him, wanting him to touch all of me, but at the same time knowing I wasn’t going to last a whole lot longer. I needed him suited up and ready to go, so I rolled off him, my breasts instantly singing a dirge of loss and abandonment, and dug around in his nightstand drawer until I found a package.
He was about to follow me, but I pushed him back, opening the package with a knowing waggle of my eyebrows. “Do you mind if I do this? I’m not very good at it, and I feel that I need practice.”
“Be my guest,” he said, waving a gracious hand at his crotch. “But be warned if you intend on trying anything fancy, like putting it on with your mouth or, god forbid, your breasts, I won’t last past a few seconds.”
“Duly noted... wait, my breasts? How do you put a condom on with your breasts?”
He just stared hopefully at me as I sat with my hand poised over his penis.
“I’ll Google it later,” I told him, taking pity on his now very aroused penis. I unrolled the condom onto him, making sure to touch him as much as possible in the process, and asking, “Was that enjoyable for you?”
“Very, but that’s because you cheated and did extra tormenting things with your fingers. Can I return to your breasts?”
I lay down and held my arms up. He was there instantly, his cheeks, ever so slightly stubbly, rubbing on my still-sensitized breasts. “You are so smooth,” he said, nuzzling the underside. “Like satin.”
“It’s what I was saying earlier about you being hard. You’re like steel with a very soft covering, whereas I’m soft and smooshy.”
“I like soft and smooshy. I like everything about you, especially your little belly,” he said, nibbling a serpentine path down to that spot. “But I especially like your legs. You have lovely legs. I wish to kiss them all over, but I’m afraid that is going to have to wait for another time, because your breasts have pushed me perilously close to my breaking point.”
I kissed his mouth as soon as it was in range, my legs moving along his when he settled himself for action, catching his moan of pleasure in my mouth when he slid into me. All my words left me then, leaving behind a body that was nothing but endless waves of ecstasy that started deep in my center, spreading out with every flex of his hips. I moved along with him, my body welcoming him with a thousand minuscule muscles, and just when his mouth moved to my earlobe, his breath as ragged and rough as mine, I let go of my control, and bit his shoulder, crying wordlessly when he thrust harder and faster until I went spiraling off into an orgasm that tightened all my muscles around him.
He didn’t last long after that, giving his own hoarse cry, his hips giving a couple more thrusts before he collapsed down on me, his body heavy and damp with perspiration.
I relished every bit of him as I let my hands stroke down his sides and back.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into my shoulder.
“For what? The orgasm of my lifetime?”
“I’m heavy. I should move. I think my muscles are gone, however, because I don’t feel like I can.”
“You’re fine,” I said, giving his shoulder a little nibble. I was vaguely surprised to see that my love bite earlier had left a mark, and reminded myself to be less aggressive in the future. “Alden, I’m sorry. I bit you too hard. You’ve got a hell of a hickey.”
With a groan, he rolled off me, and onto his back, where he lay splayed out like a man well loved. “I don’t particularly care what marks you left on me.”
“You might if Fenice or Vandal sees it. They might think we have something going on other than just this.”
“Do you care what they think?”
“No, not really. I mean, it’s not going to affect my job, so the itches we scratch in private aren’t any of their business.”
“Exactly.”
I bit my lip, the pleasant buzz of orgasmic afterglow fading, leaving me feeling... I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, exactly. Kind of let down. “Then there’s Lisa. She’ll know what we’re up to as soon as she sees that hickey.”
He opened one eye and turned his head toward me so he could pin me back. “You’re not really jealous, are you?”
“No. But I don’t want to come between you and a potential girlfriend just because we started something before she got here.”
“You’re not doing anything of the sort,” he said, closing his eye again. “And I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.”
“Good. Then we’re in agreement.” But even as I spoke the words, I wondered if that was true.
