“Yeah? Well, I love yours too. Would help if you moved a little faster though. No one-night stands for us.”
“Oh?”
“Keep going past midnight, and that’ll definitely make it a two-nighter.”
“Or we both come again, take a short nap, then go at it again tomorrow. Maybe Monday, and again into next week,” he offered, praying she’d take him up on it. No way in hell he’d be done with her after one night.
She stopped stroking his shoulders, and he tensed, thickening inside her.
This, right now, was a turning point.
“So you want to keep hanging out and having sex?”
“Or, as your people call it, dating?”
“My people?”
“Yeah, womankind. Because my people are crude.” He shifted a bit, wondering if she’d notice, but he had to. God, she was so tight around him. “Dudes would be calling it all sorts of insulting things.”
“Like?”
He slid slowly out, then pushed back in. She bit her lip. He moaned and said hoarsely, “Like banging and balling. Riding the sweet shoot. Dining and dashing.”
“Wait. I know that one.” She gasped when he angled deeper inside her. “That’s about eating and taking off.”
He smiled.
She blushed. “Oh. We haven’t gotten to that yet.”
“The night’s still young.”
She stared up at him, searching. Then she pulled his head close and whispered in his ear, “Then what are you waiting for?” She stuck her tongue in his ear. An erogenous zone she’d homed in on with ease.
He slammed back home. This time he didn’t stop until after she’d cried out his name. In five long, howling syllables. Then, and only then, did he leave a little bit of himself behind.
Unfortunately, he had a bad feeling he’d left more than a physical piece of himself. He’d left an emotional one as well.
