“I still hate you,” he says, no heat or conviction in his words. “Just so you know. This doesn’t change anything, but… I appreciate your help.”
I grin. “I’ll take it.”
More silence. My skin prickles with awareness. It’s a mountain I’ve scaled to keep my eyes locked on his instead of looking at his body. Especially when his breathing visiblychanges. When his lips part. His hand grips his towel a little tighter.
My feet remain planted right where they are. Iwill nottouch him. I won’t. I can’t?—
But as soon as he takes a step closer, that’s it. My resolve might as well be made of tissue paper for how it dissolves. Our mouths collide and I instantly groan. It feels like ages since I’ve kissed him. Tasted him.
Lemon’s hand falls away and his towel drops. I touch him everywhere, feeling his naked body, still damp from the shower. He frantically pulls at my clothes. Struggling to get them off as we stumble through the room, leaving them in a trail behind us.
We collapse on the bed, though I practically trip when he falls backwards. Lemon laughs and then our mouths mold together again. My heart races. His laugh. I hear him laugh. The sound warms me, but then it’s set on fire with the heat quickly rising through my body.
Lemon pulls me down on him and our bodies rub together. Our cocks jerk against each other. Lemon rolls us, so he’s on top of me. Straddling me like I’m a damn horse. His hands press on my chest, like he’s keeping me down, while he ruts his hips against me hard.
My eyes roll. I groan as my body instinctively tries to move with him.
We roll again and though our mouths don’t come apart, I take that for what it was. Instructions for how to move on him. Demand for what he wants. In true Lemon fashion, he’s not subtle.
I don’t know how long we roll around, hands groping and fondling. When he’s on top this time, he pulls his mouth from mine and stretches over me. I kiss along his chest and stomach. Lemon moans as he rattles around over my head.
When he comes back, his mouth covers mine, and I can hear him messing with a wrapper. I’m not surprised when he rolls a condom on me. I don’t argue. Don’t fight it.
There’s no arguing that I want to fuck this man. Not at this moment. Probably not ever. I’m confident that every moment since the first kiss has been preparing me for this.
His body hovers over mine, and I try to figure out what he’s doing. What’s taking him so long? He already wrapped me. Following his arm twisted around his body, I feel what he’s doing.
A new wave of heat rushes through me. I’m pretty sure I leak into the condom.
“You can touch me,” he says breathlessly against my mouth.
This might be the first time he’s not demanded it.
We shift around a little more so I can trace his hand until I reach where his fingers disappear inside his ass. I shiver, pulling his mouth to mine again. He continues to work himself as I let my fingers rest there. Feeling what he’s doing.
When I work up the courage, I press one where his fingers disappear. He nods against me, not taking his mouth from mine. It’s a weird feeling, but not dissimilar from fingering a woman in principle. Just a minute later, my finger is inside his hole with his and together we stretch him.
It’s hot. Why is it hot?
Lemon abruptly rolls us and we both laugh as I fumble this time, trying to catch my body weight before I crush him. He grips my dick and lines me up.
I stare at him, hardly breathing, as he rubs my cockhead against his slick, ready hole.
“I still hate you,” he says. Zero venom. Zero conviction. I can’t even take him seriously with him panting like that.
“Fine, maybe I’ll fuck the hate out of you.”
Lemon shivers. “You can try.”
Gripping his hand, I pull it away from my dick and pin both of them above his head. Staring into his face, I watch his pleasure as I force myself into his tight body. It feels like I’m forcing my way in. He’s so tight. So tight that I can barely breathe. In fact, I don’t think I’ve taken a breath since I started.
“Hurry up,” Lemon gripes. “We’re late. Fuck me already.”
I huff. “You’re so fucking pushy.”
Snapping my hips, I bury myself deep, but I think that particular punctuation backfires since we both roll our eyes.
“Fuck me,” he grunts.
