I rock into her as deep as she can take me. I’m only able to fit a little more than half of my shaft inside her before her body stops me. She’s so petite that I’m afraid of hurting her by going any farther.
Pulling back out fully, I then slide my cock inside her sheath again, blessedly aware of how her walls grip me. Grabbing the back of her right leg, I hitch her knee closer to her chest, plunging into her again.
“Yes,” she purrs, her back arching at the same time.
Beneath my hand, her leg starts to quiver after a few more thrusts.
“Tell me what you want,” I say, my breath exhaling in quick pants.
“Faster. Touch my clit,” she wheezes as her other leg wraps around my waist, digging her heel into my ass.
Reaching up, I grasp the pillow positioned against the headboard and shove it under her hips. With the lift of her ass, my cock slips deeper into her pussy.
“Yes! Oh my God!”
Leaning forward as I continue to thrust my aching erection in and out of her sex, I brush my lips against her mouth. “Crew. Not God. And you’ll call out my name when I make you come.” I slip my hand between our bodies, my fingers skimming her tight bundle of nerves as I rest my forehead against hers. “Fuck, I’m close.”
“Me too,” she whimpers, her hips rocking in time against my hand as she climbs toward her release.
I feel her walls quaking as my dick rubs that special spot inside her sex. When she comes screaming my name, Bailey’s nails clench my back, digging into my skin as she holds on while riding out her orgasm. The moment her tight walls squeeze my cock like a clenched fist, I pour myself into the condom.
My body jerks from the exertion, and I try my best to move off Bailey, but she surprises me when she wraps her arms around my neck and holds me close while dropping her legs on either side of my hips.
The room is quiet except for our ragged breathing and the soft percussion of rain against the windows.
The lamp light flickers from her nightstand and blurs at the edges of my vision. My pulse is finally beginning to come down from “overtime” levels. Bailey is sprawled half on top of me, her cheek pressed against my chest, one leg thrown over mine like she’s staking a claim.
My hand moves lazily up and down her spine, tracing the little bumps I learned by heart tonight.
She hums, the sound low and content, vibrating against my ribs. “That,” she murmurs, “was… not casual.”
I huff out a laugh that feels suspiciously like a choked sob. “No,” I agree. “That was pretty much the opposite of casual.”
She tilts her head back to look at me, hair mussed, lips a little swollen, eyes soft and still somehow sharp enough to see straight through me.
“You okay in there?” she asks, tapping lightly over my heart.
“I think my brain is still trying to reboot,” I admit. “It might be stuck on the loading screen where you—”
She slaps a hand over my mouth, laughing. “Do not narrate it,” she says, cheeks flushing. “We both know what happened. My nervous system is still processing it in 4K.”
I grin against her palm, then kiss the heel of her hand. “Fine,” I say. “I’ll keep the play-by-play internal.”
“Thank you,” she says primly, settling back down with a sigh. “Although, for the record, if this were a game, I’d say we both put some impressive numbers on the board.”
“Are we really turning this into a stats review?” I ask, amused.
“Sorry,” she says. “I cope with vulnerability by making jokes. It’s very mature of me.”
I tighten my arm around her, anchoring us both. “It’s my favorite thing about you,” I say quietly. “Well. One of them.”
She goes still. “You have a list?”
“Of favorite things?” I chuckle. “Yeah, Bailey. I’m not exactly subtle.”
“List them,” she says.
“Now?”
