I pointed down to my own leaking cock. “Yeah. I was kinda close too. Why’d you stop? I wanted you to cum in me.”
He grinned up at me. “You know I will. Just not like this.”
“Like what? You’ve cum in me like this a million times already.”
Noah didn’t respond, just released his dick and shifted his weight once more. “Can I be on top?”
“Oh, sure.” I lifted my leg and swung off him, then repositioned myself beside him on my hands and knees. “You know this is my favorite position. Just don’t pull on the wig too hard. It’ll come right off.”
“No, not like that.” Noah sat up beside me. “Lie on your back.”
I did as he asked. It wasn’t like I cared. There wasn’t a position I didn’t like. Especially with someone as skilled as Noah.
He slid on top of me between my legs, his hard, slick cock smashing into mine, and he supported his weight with one hand on the mattress beside my head. With his free hand, he slid his fingers under the edge of the wig and slipped it off. “Without this.”
The room seemed instantly colder. “Why? I thought you wanted to.”
“I did. And it was fun. Maybe we can use them again sometime. But right now I want you. I don’t even want the illusion of someone else. And I don’t want you to think I’m making love to anyone other than you.”
Making love.
I must have made a face, as he chuckled. “Yeah. I know you hate that term. I do too. It’s cheesy and a bit trite. But it isn’t right now.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine. Never breaking that light pressure, he used his free hand to push at my leg.
I followed his nudging and lifted both my legs slightly to give him more access.
I did hate the term “making love.” How many hookups had asked me to make love to them? It was so stupid. I didn’t love them. They didn’t love me. Why the hell did they want the illusion of it? It was enough to just fuck and have a good time.
Fucking was better. Fucking could just be fun. Anonymous. Fucking could also be loving. Noah and I proved that every time he nearly broke my neck on the headboard.
Noah scraped his thumb across my hole, then pushed his cock in. Deep. One quick, hard motion.
I sighed in relief, ready for him to fuck like mad. Stop my brain as surely as the wig had done.
Then he kept his cock there, as deep as it would go. “Look at me, please, Randall.”
I did. Though the room was dim, his brown eyes were easy to see.
“I love you.” He twitched inside me.
“I know you do, but—”
“No. None of that. It’s just, I love you. All of you. Even the part that wouldn’t get out of bed for all those days. And the strength in you that made you leave the house and do this with me. I love you.”
He kissed me again, refusing to let me speak, and began to move inside me. He withdrew his length nearly completely, then pushed back in. Slowly. Smoothly. The pace of his thrusts made him seem even larger than normal.
Still moving inside me, he lifted off me enough to look in my eyes again. “I love you, Randall. I always have. I always will.”
I ran fingers over his face, his brows, his beard, his lips.
He increased the pace of his thrusts slightly, always pausing as the root of his cock stretched me the widest.
“I love you. I need you to know that. To believe it.”
Despite myself I felt tears burn behind my eyes. “I do.”
Another thrust. Another exquisite pause. “I need you to trust it.”
More thrusts, the slow friction of his dick heightening my sensation.
