His fingers traveled over the soft skin of her inner thigh and ghosted over the flesh at the apex. She was slick, her body already creaming at the thought of his cock entering her.
“Take me in your hand,” he urged her.
Her cool fingers against the heat of his hard length had him hissing as it twitched in anticipation. Without prompting,she began to stroke him, squeezing and twisting slightly on the upstroke, her thumb bumping against the notch at the head. Precum wept from the tip, and on the next pass, her thumb caught the droplets and smoothed them along his fevered cock.
Taking his cues from her, he matched his touch to hers. If she applied more or less pressure, he reciprocated. If she sped up or slowed down, he matched her, stroke for stroke. And when her hips began to buck into his petting, he thrust against her hand. They pleasured each other to prepare for coming together.
He groaned as his cock began to pulse and stretch further in both length and girth. He needed a condom. Quickly, he reached over to his bedside table, opened the drawer, and broke open the box he’d purchased on his way home. In seconds, he had one open and over his hard length, barely interrupting her touch on him.
Had he ever been this eager to come before? In the past, it happened when it happened. He never wished for it to happen faster or last longer. Tonight, though, he felt desperate to slide inside this woman, swell, and paint her insides. Mark her as his. As if somehow his cum would signal to all others that she belonged to him. Stupid. Primitive. Nevertheless, it was true. That would have to wait until she was completely ready for him to enter her life for good though. He was more than ready, fast as it was.
His hand returned to between her legs, and sounds of need began to spill from her lips, gaining in volume despite losing their clarity. Her features began to twist, and the louder and less distinct her words became, the harder her hips began to pump against his hand, desperate to reach the pinnacle of her pleasure. Eager for her to achieve that summit, he pressed against her clit harder, making his circles tighter and faster.
He pressed his mouth to the side of her head and spoke into her hair. “Come for me, beautiful. When you do, I’m going toslip between those gorgeous thighs and thrust home. I’m going to make sure you not only see stars but feel them go supernova.”
Continuing to circle her clit, he bent his head to seal his mouth around her nipple and clutch it in his teeth. When he bit down, it wasn’t enough to truly hurt her by breaking skin, but it was enough to remind her that while she might hold him in the palm of her hand, he still had the advantage. The pressure of his touch could allow or deny the relief she sought.
Her legs began to shake, her words became indistinct sounds, and her body tensed. Swiftly, he slipped between her legs, and as her climax hit, he pushed inside her in one unhurried stroke.
He hesitated for only a moment once he reached as far as he could within her, then began a steady, unhurried series of thrusts and retreats to enhance the pleasure streaking through her body.
When her climax finally ebbed away, he stilled. They were lined up hip-to-hip, his hard cock pressing against her core, her slick folds welcoming him home. Because that’s what home was—a person. Those who understood you, who accepted you, faults and all, and didn’t ask you to be anything else but who you were.
Her eyes were closed. The smile on her lips was reassuring, but he wanted to watch her respond to him. “Look at me, Elyxandre.”
Her eyes opened languidly, the pupils wide in the dim light of the bedroom and from the desire running through her veins. He waited until he had her attention, her gaze fully focused on his, and only then did he begin to move inside her again.
Time seemed to slow as he noted each reaction.
The fluttering of her eyelids at the pleasure he was stoking.
The arching of her back to invite him further inside her body as he canted her hips to angle himself higher.
The baring of her neck as his mouth found her pulse point, and she granted him permission to mark her.
The instinctual squeeze of her inner walls to keep him seated deeply within her at the bottom of each stroke.
The gasp she emitted when he ground his pelvis against her, teasing all her external nerve endings.
When she managed to focus on him through the post-orgasm haze, he smiled at her. Once more, he twined their fingers together and brought them to just above her head. “That’s it. Who’s loving you, El? Loving you the way you deserve to be loved? Who’s making this body sing?”
“You are.”
“And who am I?”
“Lucas.” His name came out on an exhale that sounded like pure bliss.
“That’s right. It’s Lucas.”
He brushed his nose up one side of hers and down the other. “We’re not done, beautiful. Gonna make this so good for you.”
He withdrew from her body, a half-hearted whine coming from her, and left the bed to stand at the side. His hand returned to his cock, slowly stroking it. “Come to the edge of the bed and get on your hands and knees. Time to go ass-up for me.”
As if stupefied from the orgasm, she fumbled to turn over and crawl toward him. He helped her turn away, and when she still struggled to find her balance, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed.
He didn’t wait for her to settle. After lining his cock up with her entrance, he pushed inside and began another round of steady thrusts and retreats, the pace much faster this time, the force much greater. Hopefully, he didn’t leave bruises where he gripped her, but her sexy mewls and staccato pleas—for more, where it was good, and how hard she wanted it—were overriding his ability to be gentle with her.
The position allowed him to hit her G-spot from a better angle, and the more unintelligible she became, the closer he knew she was. That knowledge helped his own orgasm begin to build. “Need you to come with me, beautiful,” he gritted out.
