“Not pacing. Not leaving. Just… here.”
He hauls me back with both hands under my thighs, done being patient.
And I let him.
I’m out of my fucking mind,
and back in his lap,
straddling him wide, thighs soaked,
every inch of me vibrating for him.
I grip the back of his neck,
and the second I feel him against my slit,
I glance down between us at his cock.
It's leaking, twitching for me,
hot enough to melt steel.
He breathes into me. “Condom’s in my bathroom,” he spills out with his next breath. “I ain’t ever gone raw before, but you have me however you want me, I’m yours.”
I shake my head. “I wanna feel you. All of you. Just skin.” I breathe deep, lungs rattling. “I’m clean and covered. But it’s not just about me.”
I pull back enough to meet his eyes.
“It’s both of us.
“So you tell me if you need it.
“I’m good either way,
“but I wanna do this together.”
He brushes my hair back, then kisses me.
“Fuck—Il modo in cui tieni a me…
“The way you give a shit about me—it kills me. Every fuckin’ time, it kills me. Gets right under my fuckin’ skin.”
He touches his forehead to mine.
“Yeah, okay. No condom. Just skin.”
I reach down between us,
my fingers curling around his cock.
His stare’s stuck on where I’ve got him gripped, chest rising up, jaw flexing. Like I just took his heart out and wrapped my hand aroundthatinstead.
His hand leaves my hip, finds my hand—the one on his cock.
He covers it, his fingers over my knuckles,
needing the proof, that I’m here, holding him.
