“I am.” I keep eye contact like we did last night as I rub my digits along my tongue and lips.
He shudders, spanking my clit again, and I yip in pleasure. Then, he slips two fingers inside me, curling to hit that perfect spot. He groans into my collarbone. “You gonna come for me like this? Or do you want my cock?”
“Your cock.” I bite along the edge of his trapezius. “Want you inside me.”
He empties his fingers from me, and I whimper at the loss, closing my eyes. “Look at me while I fuck you, Joy.” With one hand, he tilts my jaw, so I have no other choice but to face him.
“Open,” he orders.
My throat goes bone dry. I obey. He’s above me, neck tight, and he lets out a raspy sigh. “That’s my sweet girl.”
My mouth drops open. His girl.
“Are you on birth control?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to use a condom?”
I should want that. I’m always responsible. I’ve never risked unprotected sex, but he hasn’t had sex in nearly a decade.
I shake my head, no.
He bites his lower lip, gripping himself. “That means I’m going to fill you, Joy.” His hardness hovers between my entrance, his swollen head bumping against my clit.
“Please.”
My gaze is ensnared in his. And with excruciating slowness, he glides inside of me. Just an inch and then another.
My brain forgets how to work.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Please.”
He continues. He’s big—bigger than Parker, bigger than anyone I’ve been with—and the stretch is blissfully tender. But then my body adjusts, and he sinks deeper, and it’s perfect. I gasp, and he whimpers, his eyes drifting closed.
“Jesus Christ,” he grits out, forehead dropping to my sweaty skin. “I need a second.”
I grind against him.
“Baby, slow.” He returns to stroking my clit as I move in small circles on his cock, lifting my hips to feel him deeper. He lifts his head. “Breathe.” His chest expands, and I follow his lead. He watches me, touching different parts of my body, spending longer on the spots that make me grind against him faster.
He’s taking his time, reading me.
This is what I’ve been missing. Not just sex, but the connection, the intensity, the feeling of being completely present instead of mentally running through tomorrow’s surgery schedule.
He thrusts, and the fullness of him drives me to the edge of oblivion.
“Jamie.” I’m rocking needy now, the old bed frame rapping against the wall. He pants through his nose like he’s restraining himself, and that makes me want him even more. I want to be the reason he comes. He hits a spot inside me that makes my body tingle with pleasure.
I cry out, high and desperate and completely uninhibited. My fingers and toes curl into the flannel sheets.
“That’s it,” he encourages, angling deeper. “Let me hear you.”
“Don’t stop—right there—fuck—”
I want it to be rougher. To make the world spin and my lungs ache.
