“More,” she whimpers, her body squirming and back arching again, searching for more. Her hips undulate against the vibrating, stealing the pleasure for herself. “More.”
“Sweetheart,” I start.
Her spread legs tremble, more violently as the seconds pass, her body lacking oxygen. Fear fills me and I pull the vibrator back until it hovers.
“Breathe, Natalia,” I whisper gently. I lean over her, leaving the toy to the side, and gently hold her jaw. “Breathe, sweetheart.”
I kiss her cheek where a rogue tear rolls from her eye. “I’ve got you.”
“Mhhm,” she hums. “Rowan.”
“Too much?” I whisper as I kiss her swollen bottom lip where she’s been biting it.
She shakes her head. “More,” she breathes. “I want you inside me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she pants. “Yes, Rowan, yes. I’m okay.”
“You’ll tell me?—”
“Yes, sweetheart,” Natalia breathes heavily, pulling against the hand cuffs. “Let me touch you. Please.”
I reach over for the tiny key on the night table and release her. Natalia doesn’t give me the time to set them aside before her arms come around me and pull me over her, her lips latching onto mine like a magnet.
“No one,” she breathes on my lips, “makes me feel this.”
I kiss her back with the same fervor, perhaps more than what she’s giving, and roll my hips into hers, my cock slipping between her folds. I hiss, my body twitching.
“Me either,” I whisper.
“Inside me, Rowan,” Natalia whispers in reply. Her limbs wrap around me, suffocating me in the best way, my chest pressing into hers. “God, Rowan.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she sniffs. “I’m just…”
“Natalia—”
“Fuck me,” my sweetheart breathes and the tip of my cock nudges her entrance, pulling a moan from the both of us. “Yes, Rowan.”
Fuck, I want to tell her. Ineedto tell her.
“Natalia, I?—”
She lifts her hips and I slide deeper into her.
I love you.
I bury myself inside of her, the words stuck on the tip of my tongue like a splinter I need to pick out. Words I just need to get the fuck out of me and into her.
Her nails burn, probably breaking through the skin of my back as she drags them down. Her hands grab my ass, pulling me in further with each of my hard thrusts. Her moans come breathier, faster.
Her lips kiss my shoulder, scattering soft kisses across my clavicle and up my neck, and I swear it’s one of the best displays of affection she’s ever given, especially when we’re like this.
We don’t just fuck anymore. And right now, I’m making love to my sweetheart and I want to do it for-fucking-ever. A million times over until the only thing she can think about me is how much I love her. Until the only thing she can feel is how much of myself I’ve given to her, and the weight of it in her possession.
This girl has my heart in her back pocket—I left it there years ago, really—but I don’t want it there anymore, I want my heart inside of hers. I want her to feel it beat to the same song,same rhythm. Same lyrics and melody. I want her to hear it sing her name while she sits in the front row.
