My arm flails around, searching for the drawer handle, opening the bedside table, grabbing the box of condoms I put there the day after I showed Josh the first draft of the plans. He tears it open, strips of condoms flying around the bed, and in seconds he’s all suited up. He doesn’t thrust right into me. Instead, he slides his cock along the length of my seam, back and forth. It would be dry humping if I wasn’t so wet.
“Fuck you feel good.” He hisses as he drives us both crazy with his thrusting.
Without slowing the surge of his hips, he drops his thumb on my clit and my body implodes, again. The sounds coming out of me are barely human as Josh lines himself up and slips his magic cock into my still-quaking body.
His thrusts are long and slow and tantalising. My hips come off the bed, unbelievably chasing another release before I wrap my legs around his waist, the spike heels of my shoes digging into his tight arse muscles.
“Not so fast.” His breathing is laboured, the concentration on his face telling me he’s struggling to maintain control. For what seems like hours, his hands hold my hips still, his hips rolling in a lazy rhythm. It’s driving me wild.
“Now. Again. Please,” I gasp, unable to construct a whole sentence.
The rhythm picks up, and I push my hips higher as his hands release them, meeting each thrust as the speed builds until the pace is frantic, our tongues and hips in a matching beat.
It’s pounding now, and I feel an almost unbearable rush of pleasure as Josh lets out a roar of release. I can feel his cock pulsing as he takes my hands and falls forward to lie gently against me. Heartbeat to heartbeat.
Chapter Nineteen
Josh
Iwaketolightstreaming in through open curtains, my arm across Greer’s waist, holding her pressed tight against my chest, our legs curled together. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I hadn’t meant to be here this morning. I don’t generally do sleepovers. Fuck and run is my usual style. Even with the few girls who might’ve considered themselves my girlfriend, or something close to it. Sleeping, and waking up, has always felt too personal. Too intimate. And here I am doing just that with the one woman in the world I should be staying the hell away from.
I should get up. Get out of here before she wakes. But that would be a dick move. And in all honesty, I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. My hand seems to have a mind of its own and is currently stroking Greer’s hip and thigh.
I feel it the moment she wakes up, aware of my very loud morning wood pressed against her arse. Her hand slides behind her to stroke me and I know I won’t be getting out of this bed any time soon.
The strips of condoms that leapt out of the box last night are still scattered around us, so it only takes me a second to find one and roll it on. Then I’m lifting her knee and slipping inside her from behind, taking her with long, languid strokes. My lips roam across her shoulder, fingers pinching a nipple before sliding south across her belly and onto her clit, slipping through her wet heat, pressing and rubbing as I thrust. This time our orgasms are like gentle waves in a warm sea, lifting us to a glittering peak before dropping away, leaving us spent and satisfied.
“Mmm. Good morning.” Greer stretches like a cat, rolling over to face me, the sight of her taking my breath away.
“Do you always look this gorgeous in the mornings?” comes out of my mouth before I think better of it. Her hair is mussed, her cheeks pink, her eyes bright. She’s never looked more beautiful, and it breaks my heart to know I’ll never see her like this again.
“I don’t know. I don’t think being woken up by an alarm clock has quite the same effect as an orgasm.”
It occurs to me that some time, some day, some other guy will be waking up with her like this. The knife of jealousy cuts me, and it’s bitter. I need to get out of here before I say something we’ll both regret.
“I should grab a shower and get going. I didn’t mean to stay all night.”
“You’re still sure about what you said last night?” Greer sits up, making no effort to cover herself, and the sight of her bare breasts has my cock stirring again. Treacherous bastard. Greer’s suggestion we work this out of our system clearly failed.
“Yes. I’m sure.” That’s a lie. I’m anything but sure, and I hope she can’t see the conflicted emotions on my face. “I need to get moving. I have work to do.”
“You are aware it’s Saturday, right?”
“Yeah, I know. But we’ve got so much work on right now; I need to spend a few hours at the office. I’m hoping I can get away in time to crew for Will in the races this afternoon.”
Will and I have been sailing together for years. It’s another one of the many things I missed when I was overseas. On Saturday afternoons we race at the yacht club whenever life allows.
“Okay. Well, hop in the shower and I’ll get you some breakfast.” Greer gets out of bed, giving me one last good look at her perfect body before she swings a silk robe over it and heads for the door.
Standing under the pounding hot spray, I wrestle my conscience against the overwhelming sense of satisfaction I feel this morning. I’ve never had sex like it. Which is a sobering thought. I’ve had many, many partners and have never believed emotions needed to be involved for it to be good. Turns out maybe I was wrong. Because I’ve never felt this bone-deep sense of satisfaction before.
I find Greer in the kitchen plating up scrambled eggs on toast.
“When you said breakfast, I thought you meant coffee and cereal.”
She laughs as she hands me a plate. “I figured you’d need more than that to rebuild your strength.”
She’s right. I’m starving and tuck into the golden eggs before taking a swig of the coffee. I nearly choke.
