“Like this,” I suggested, rolling onto my side, cocking my legs up, and waiting for him to slide in behind me, his whole body blocking me from view even if someonecouldsee.
Another of those little growls.
But he slid behind me.
“You’re a bad fucking influence,” he mumbled in my ear.
But his hands were already sliding up under my shirt, squeezing, rolling, teasing.
It wasn’t long before my hips were rocking back against him. The hard line of his cock pressed against me. Desperate for more, I reached back, working his button and zipper free, then reaching inside to wrap my hand around him. My own legs pressed tighter together as my sex clenched, already thinking of him deep inside.
“Impatient,” he said, teeth nipping my earlobe.
But he was just as desperate.
I lost his hand as he dug in his wallet for the condom, then quickly protected us before sliding back behind me again.
His knees cocked up behind mine.
His body pressed closer.
Then his hardness was against me, then surging deep inside.
A low, deep moan escaped me, mingling with his rough curse as he filled me.
“Almost forgot how fucking good you feel,” he said, breath warm on my ear as I wiggled against his lap, needing movement, needing friction.
I figured, after days of not being able to have this, he would be hard and rough and desperate to get us both to the finish line.
Which was why I was surprised when he shifted his hips back slowly. Then just as slowly slid back deep inside.
I expected to be frustrated by the pace.
But slowing things down made me achingly aware of each thick inch as he moved inside me.
I expected the intensity of the need for release. What I didn’t expect was this broken-open sensation on my chest as this big man held me gently, and his lips and tongue lightly teased my ear and my neck.
And the only problem?
Perish seeped into those cracks, filled them, filled me.
And I knew right then that it wasn’t just enjoyment anymore, just harmless sex.
Because we’d gotten too close over our little lockdown, being in each other’s orbit, sharing casual conversations, learning things about each other thanks to proximity and curiosity.
This wasn’t just about sensation.
It was about connection.
And the feelings that had been growing.
I squeezed my eyes shut when they burned and forced myself not to think, just to feel, just to get lost in what was easy, uncomplicated.
The way I wanted him.
The way he wanted me back.
And as my body climbed closer and closer to that cliff, it became easier.
