His hands pull me up his body and I yelp. His mouth is on mine a second later and he’s adjusting us until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off and my knees on either side of his thighs.
“Christian,” I moan, his lips dropping to wrap around my nipple. “Oh my god.”
His hands on my hips lift me like I weigh nothing. I’m turned around on his lap, his dick pressing against my backside, and I see us in the mirror. An arm comes around me, his hand splayed on my stomach. His other hand gently pulls my hair back over my shoulder and his breath tickles my ear when he whispers, “Watch us, baby.”
I bite my lip and reach between us. My eyes lock on Christian’s in the mirror as I sweep the tip of his cock through my slit, making him hiss. His hands are on my waist, gripping tightly, and my free hand is reaching back into his hair.
“Lana,” he breathes shakily and kisses my shoulder. “Please.”
I align us and his hands tighten further on my waist—so tight I hope his fingerprints bruise. “Christian,” I shudder as I slowly lower onto his cock.
“Fuck,” he growls and I gasp.
I watch us in the mirror, his chin on my shoulder and his big hands holding onto me—but really, I think he’s holding himself together. I lift my hips and drop them once, and he groans in my ear. I’m so full.
“You like this don’t you?” he asks in my ear, his deep whisper making my pussy pulse around him as I bounce. “Sitting on my dick and watching us fuck?”
I bite my lip and nod with a frantic whimper. His hands lift my body and bring me back down—fuck, I love when he does that. “Yes,” I breathe, my finger pulling his hair. “Yes.Fuck you’re so big, baby.”
“And you take me so well, Lana,” he rasps. “Such a good girl.”
My head is thrown back as he moves me up and down,faster and harder, and he meets those with his own hard upward thrusts. He thrusts up hard, I slam down even harder, and I feel him everywhere. In all my spaces.
He has infested my house, made himself at home, and sat on my couch, perching his feet up on my coffee table like this is where he belongs. And it is, he belongs with me, wherever I am—and I belong with him in all the same ways.
The sound of skin slapping and choppy moans fill the room, and I try to keep watching us in the mirror as his fingers move down to my clit, but I can’t keep my head up. I am barely holding myself together.
I use my other hand to cover his on my pussy. I move my hand lower to feel where he moves in and out of me, and he grunts when my index and middle finger graze his cock with each thrust.
“Fuck, Lana.”
Two words.
I gasp when I’m thrown onto my back and Christian is over me. “I fucking love you, Lana,” he says on my lips, his cock gliding between my folds. One of his hands wraps tenderly around my throat and he says it again. “I love you.”
“I love you,” I breathe and pull him closer by the nape of his neck.
He pushes back into me all at once, ripping a gasp from my throat and he says it again, “I love you.”
Christian holds himself up above me, his fists on either side of my head and his arms are flexing in the most jaw-dropping way. The lines of his triceps and biceps make my mouth water before it falls open when his hips slam into mine.
Oh god, I feel him everywhere.
“What’s my one rule?” Christian husks. The words slippingfrom my mouth are incoherent, much more like moans. So he asks again, “What’s the rule, Lana?”
“I…” I gasp with the next hard slam of his hips, forcing myself to remember and say the words. “I come…before you do.”
“You come first,” he breathes in my ear. “Always.”
Christian sits up and pushes back his hair with a heavy breath, his eyes between our bodies. I arch, my back bowing off the bed when I feel the pad of his thumb brush across my oversensitive clit.
“You feel so fucking good, Lana,” he husks deeply. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.”
“For you,” I moan.
Sex with Christian was always explosive. Earth shattering, mind altering, and making my legs tremble harder than a grade seven earthquake. And now, somehow, it’s even better. Or worse, but in a good way.
His thumb moves faster and faster, and my body is convulsing. Every part of my body feels like it might break—my bones, my muscles, my existence. All at his hands.
