I’m lightheaded as I fumble my own jeans down, every thought centered on getting inside her.
She keeps her body pressed against mine as I work to free my cock. Only moments after I get my boxers down, I hear the sound of her spitting into her hand. I look up from where my attention was focused on her ass rocking back against me just in time to see her spit-slick hand reaching toward me. She tosses a grin over her shoulder, and she gives me a slow, easy stroke to lube me up.
“Impatient,” I tease breathlessly, my voice thick with need.
“Told you I didn’t want to wait,” she says. “Please, Everett.”
And who the hell am I to deny her anything when she asks like that?
I bite my lip in a paltry attempt at distraction as I reach down to guide my cock into her. My breath shudders out of me as thehead sinks in, her body a hot, wet clutch of need. She whines out her pleasure and pushes back against me, taking me in deeper.
The slide of her cunt around me makes my heart pound in my chest, and I fold myself over her as I sink the last few inches of my cock deep inside of her.
We stay like that for a while, both of us panting and overwhelmed with pleasure. I wrap my hands around her hips, brushing my thumbs over smooth skin and enjoying the feeling over her trembling around me. Part of me wants to go slow, draw it out and savor every moment.
All thoughts of patience flee my mind when she shifts her hips back against mine, clenching down over me.
I lose myself in her, rutting forward and burying myself deep with every thrust. She reaches back to hold onto my neck, propping herself up on the workbench and letting the sweetest sounds slip between her lips. Neither of us manage any semblance of control. We move desperately against one another, sinking into the pleasure of each other’s bodies and chasing pleasure mindlessly.
It feels both like it lasts hours and mere seconds before she gasps out my name and scrapes her nails across my skin to warn me of her approaching orgasm.
I double down, slamming straight forward into the spot that has her wailing in pleasure. She nearly collapses against the table as her climax slams into her, shaking and heaving in breaths. I’m helpless to do anything but follow, my own orgasm tearing out of me like a riptide.
It’s damn near painful in its intensity, and it leaves me trembling where I’m bent over her.
I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer against me and paying no attention to the overstimulation the movement causes. I need her as close as I can get her.
I need her here, right against me, and I need her to know that I never want her to leave.
I need her to know that I love her.
I bury my face into her shoulder, pressing my mouth tight to her skin to prevent myself from saying the words that are bouncing around in my head. Now isn’t the time, and she won’t believe me if this is how she hears them.
She’s right, and she’s been right this whole time. I need to come to terms with the fact that it’s time to put some real effort into everything, no matter how scary it is.
I want to do things right, if only to make Mary happy.
I pull back enough to press a line of kisses over her shoulder, lazy and slow. The scent of sex and sawdust is heavy in the air, and it feels like the start of something not quite new, but… maybe the start of something good.
I like the sound of that.
MARY
Everett holds me for a long while after we get dressed. His hands trace idly over = my jeans, lazy swirling patterns that neither of us pay much attention to. My face is in the crook of his shoulder, my cheek resting against the fabric of his shirt. We’re both sweaty and probably covered in sawdust and dirt, but I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. It feels better to be back in his arms than I thought it would.
It’s been long enough that the sun is starting to shift in the sky, shadows sliding across the floor as the sunlight streams in through the tiny, dusty window set in the wall behind us. Sure, it probably isn’t even ten in the morning yet, but it feels like it’s been hours since I found him splitting logs and vibrating with frustration.
I should have known this is where we would end up, but the thought still makes me laugh. I haven’t had so much as a fleeting crush on anyone in years, yet I can’t stay away from Everett to save my life.
The air around us feels still, but not stagnant. Weighted, but not quite heavy. It just feels like things are different now. Nothing concrete really happened—I mean, sure, we had sex again, but we’ve done that before. Labored breathing andlingering touches between us is nothing new, at this point. Still, it feels like something changed.
Somethingbig.
Something important.
Everett brushes a strand of hair out of my face, his fingers moving so gently over my cheek as he tucks it behind my ear. He smiles at me like I’m delicate, to be cherished. It brings a rush of heat to my face. I lean into the touch, silently returning his affection. It feels so easy that I can’t imagine doing anything else, so simple that it must be right. What else could there possibly be to life than this?
I’ve never felt so safe in someone’s arms before, like I could just close my eyes and let him take care of me. It’s exciting to trust someone as much as I trust him, and I like feeling the warmth of his body beneath me.
