His hands tighten on my hips, eyes dark, greedy, reverent all at once.
“I want you to ride me, kitten.”
I start a slow rhythm, back and forth over his straining cock, and I feel it, deep inside me, my orgasm already building at the base of my spine.
“Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps.
My hands roam him—biceps, chest, abs—marveling at every line, every cut. I roll my hips, riding the friction, chasing the spark that’s about to swallow me whole. I run my clit along his length over and over again until the world blurs and I’m trembling.
“Rogue,” I breathe, desperate, dizzy, “I want you inside me.”
Control snaps in his eyes.
He sits, kisses me like he needs me to breathe, and flips us again in one fluid, powerful motion. I’m beneath him, open and burning.
“I need to grab a condom,” he whispers against my mouth.
“I’m on birth control,” I pant. “And I’m clean.”
His breath catches. Heat flares. His hand cups my cheek, then everything shatters.
He adjusts his erection at my entrance, then he is in, stretching me until I am gasping. My head falls back, a moan tearing from me I’ve never heard before. His lips are everywhere, my cheeks, lips, throat—and then he thrusts his hips, driving inside of me, and I swear I see stars and forget my own name.
He moves, deep, claiming, like I belong to him completely. He fucks me with long and hard strokes and I can’t control it, the orgasm overtakes me.
“Rogue—” my voice breaks, frantic, raw. “I’m going to come…”
His gaze locks on mine, feral and soft at once, and he shifts. He lifts, staying on his knees, and holds me up, with his hands gripped under my ass, thrusting harder and deeper until I break. I fall apart in his hands, body shaking, pleasure ripping throughme so intense it hurts to breathe. My orgasm settles, and there is nothing left for me to give.
“Oh, fuck, lass,” he mutters, his cock stiffening inside me.
“Come inside of me,” I say with a moan, and then we are over the edge together, crying out in pleasure. My insides throb, clenching and unclenching over his cock as he loses himself inside of me.
It’s not just an orgasm.
It’s a detonation. A surrender.
A rebirth.
His body collapses over mine, heavy and perfect, heartbeat wild against my chest. His lips brush mine, soft and disbelieving, like he can’t quite accept I’m real.
“Fucking hell, lass,” he breathes, kissing me again, slower this time. “I can’t wait to do that again.”
I laugh, breathless and dazed. “You’re still inside me.”
“And I’m staying here,” he murmurs, forehead against mine, voice low and wrecked. “Forever.”
And my heart—my stupid, starstruck, way-too-far-gone heart—shatters and rebuilds itself around him.
I wake to warmth.
Not sunlight, though soft morning light spills across the room, buthim. Heat, strength, steady breath against the back of my neck. A forearm heavy around my waist, anchoring me. A thigh pushed between mine. His chest pressed to my spine like he never wanted space between us.
I don’t move. I just breathe, slow and careful, afraid that if I shift even an inch, this whole night might dissolve into a perfect dream I imagined.
Last night wasn’t one moment, it was a constellation.
Laughter.
