“Oh yeah?” That teasing tone she uses makes me want to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to find her voice, much less mock me with it. “And what do you look like when you come undone?”
I know my smile is wicked when I say, “I think we should find out.”
This time, when my lips meet hers, it’s not soft and sweet like after I’d undressed her. No, we’re like two people desperate for each other. The drag of her hand along my cock, the taste of her cum still on my tongue as I kiss her, the way her ample tits drag along my chest as she moves to give herself room to stroke me... all of it has my body on fire.
Reaching down, I pull her top leg over my hip and find her cunt, still soaked from her orgasm. When my fingers dip inside her, there’s no hesitation on her part. She moans into my mouth and presses her hips to meet each thrust, over and over until she’s begging me for more.
“Let me grab a condom,” I say, rolling away from her. I rip the foil packet and roll it on quickly before I’m back, guiding her onto her back and spreading her legs as I line myself up with her entrance.
I want to be face-to-face for this. I want to see her eyes when I slide into her, watch the way her tits move with each thrust, see her face when she has that second orgasm she doesn’t think she can have.
She’s tighter than I’m expecting, and the way her lips part in a small gasp as I enter her makes me cautious. I move slowly, letting her adjust.
“I’m not going to break,” she says, but I can’t tell if she’s assuring herself, or me.
Pressing my hips forward slowly, I slide in deeper. “I sure as hell hope not.”
But somehow, the thing that runs through my mind is:I’m more worried aboutyoubreakingme.
I have no idea where the thought comes from or what it even means. This is one night, that’s it. For some reason, though, I wish it could be more. Which is ridiculous, because I don’t domore.
Not even when the flirting is as fun as it was at the bar. Not even with the almost reverent way we’re handling each other’s bodies. Not even when the sound of her moan, as she wraps her legs behind my back and pulls me deeper, has my dick throbbing for her.
Caring about people is just giving them a chance to leave you.
So tonight will have to be enough, even though that word—more—is on repeat in my brain. It’s probably just because I liked the way it sounded when she was begging me for more. So that’s what I’ll give her...more of my body.
It’s all I’m capable of giving her. There’s no way I’m ever doing a relationship again after the last one reinforced what I already knew: the people I love always leave. But if Iweregoing to be into someone, it would be someone like her.
She traces the muscles along my spine lightly with her fingertips and then wraps her hands up over my shoulders, pulling me down to her as she tilts her chin up so we’re face-to-face.
“Give me a sec,” she says, her voice breathy and her eyes wide. Up close like this, with her hair spread beneath her, she looks so goddamn innocent. Smooth, round cheeks with the freckles I can’t see in the dark. Wide eyes and full lips.
I press my lips to her forehead. “You doing okay?”
“Just . . . so full.”
“We’re almost there,” I assure her, running my thumb along her jaw.
Her laugh sounds more like a cough she’s choked on.
I brush my lips across her forehead again, whispering, “Relax. We’re so close, just a little more.”
I don’t know if she’s this tight because it’s just how her body was made, or if it’s because she’s tense or nervous. Either way it feels amazing for me, but I want it to feel good for her, too.
I might be a selfish prick in real life, but I’m incredibly selfless in the bedroom. It takes absolutely no work for me to get off, but where would the pleasure in that be, if my partner didn’t also enjoy it? Might as well just come in my fucking hand if my partner isn’t also having a great time.
I raise up slightly on one elbow and let my eyes adjust to the difference. I hate not being able to see every inch of her. I wish we had more light, so I could watch the way she responds to my touch, to my movement, as I trail my other hand down her neck, along the ridge of her shoulder, and down the side of her breast.
She sighs as my hand cups her breast, and I lick my lips at the way she spills over my palm and fingers. When I run my thumb over her nipple, she takes a ragged breath and tilts her hips up, taking more of me. It’s unbelievably difficult to take it this slow after not having sex for a year, but it’s probably the best choice right now, otherwise I’d likely embarrass myself. Because there is absolutely nothing about my own hand that is a suitable substitute for this, right here, with her.
“Yes.” She hisses out the word as the pad of my thumb scrapes against her nipple again, and she thrusts her hips up again until I’m fully inside her.
I pause momentarily, making sure she’s comfortable. She bites her lower lip as she looks up at me, and raises an eyebrow like she’s asking why I stopped. I lean down, brushing my lips across the bridge of her nose. “You good?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Literally never been better.”
