“Soon enough, kitten, the only thing you’ll have to say is ‘thank you.’”
“I told you I had enough talking ten minutes ago.”
“You also told me you’ve spent the past month thinking about me fingering you in a bar.”
He tucked my knees under my body and anchored my wrists on the small of my back before positioning himself at my opening. Being pinned down offered an unexpected thrill, filling me with breathless desire. I wiggled against him to express my impatience.
“You know how to wait for what you want.”
“Patrick,” I whispered, desperation wrapped in each syllable. I twisted my fingers in Patrick’s hold, lacing them with his. “Fuck me. Please.”
“I’m not stopping you,” he murmured, and I turned his words over and over before backing against him. He filled me completely, and responded with a sharp thrust. “Andy, fuck, yes.”
A stinging spank landed low on my backside as he pulled out, and I shrieked as the reverberations bounced through my throbbing core. My fingers clenched around his, wordlessly begging for more while his cock lingered at my opening. He answered with a squeeze to my fingers and a hard thrust that inched me farther up the bed.
His competence was impressive, though reminiscent of the fact Patrick was older, evidently much more experienced, and wise to his preferences. His erection brushed over my clit and through my folds, and though the sensation wracked me with shivers, I needed to remind myself this would most likely crash and burn, leaving me to pick up the pieces alone. Memories of stellar orgasms wouldn’t save me then.
“I can actually hear you thinking, kitten.” Patrick leaned over me, his teeth running along my shoulder as he eased out of me, and ever so slowly slid in again. He released my hands, but pressed them against my back in silent command. His fingers crawled over my belly and down to my clit, moving in rhythmic circles that had me moaning into the mattress. “Let. It. Go. Whatever it is, let it go, and focus on what you feel right here.”
I hummed in agreement, banishing thoughts of disaster with a pledge to protect myself no matter what, and I turned my face to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That voice of yours is hypnotic. You could be reading your grocery list and I’d still be on the edge of the best orgasm ever,” I panted. “But I’m not a delicate flower, Patrick. Save the narrative and fuck me.”
“You know, you could just do what you’re told.” Laughing, he delivered a teasing slap to my ass. He was unhurried and thorough, and my body loved the decadent fullness of him buried inside me while his fingers tended to my clit.
“I could.” He continued with deep, protracted strokes. I met his thrusts, once again begging for more. “But you don’t really want that. You want much more than that from me.”
Patrick paused before his hips snapped against me and he launched into a furious rhythm that brought about my complete surrender—my mind was blank to everything but the orgasm building low in my core.
“If you knew what I really wanted,” he murmured, his words punctuated with guttural moans and gasps. “You would…ah, fuck, Andy, you’re right there.”
His teeth gnashed into my shoulder, and I exploded—every inch of my skin tingled while my orgasm multiplied with Patrick’s continued thrusting. He kept talking, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear—it wasn’t an explanation of what he wanted or what I would do with that information.
“God, Andy, tell me you feel that.” He spoke around my shoulder, his breath soothing the sting of his bite. “I feel you coming all over my cock and my fingers, and yes, yes, keep going, don’t you fucking stop.” Kisses rained across my shoulder blades, and I shivered beneath his touch. “Oh fuck, the things you do to me, Andy. Fuck,fuck, I’m close, so…so…so close.”
Lingering in that hypersensitive post-orgasmic phase while Patrick chased his release, I focused on flexing my internal muscles around him—thank you very much, yoga—and it was a win for us both. I got my first-ever double orgasm, which was a lot like a bliss-filled near drowning.
“Oh God, Andy. I’m gonna fuck this hot little pussy until you forget that anyone else has ever been here. This is only for me.”
Patrick yelled a long, filthy soliloquy when he came, collapsed over me, and wrapped his arms around my body to roll us to our sides.
Disappointment washed over me. I wanted to see Patrick’s orgasm roll through him, to feel that bone-deep connection—the one that had the power to ignite the air, the one that convinced me I needed to protect myself for the day this ended—again. I wanted to see the intensity behind his promises of possession.
For once in my life, I yearned for the simple comforts of face-to-face missionary.
Patrick nestled his face against my neck and breathed deeply. “You were right.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I slanted him a look. “About what?”
He smiled against my neck—that one gesture broke through the heavy gates I was using to keep him from trampling my heart—and he chuckled softly. “Terrifying and amazing.”
*
Patrick’s door codewas burning a hole in my back pocket. It was a hot, constant reminder that my Sex God was a text away, and relative to the wannabe-Vegas club Marley insisted we hit, that reminder sounded better and better.
Yeah, he wasmySex God now.
“What’ll it be?”
I glanced up at the bartender and rattled off our drink order. When he returned, I threaded the martini glass stems between my fingers and elbowed my way through the crowd, cursing each time the drinks bobbled and liquid sloshed over the rims. I needed to teach Jess and Marley how to drink without all the flavored sweetness.
