I know it’s irrational, but damn.
“Whose were these?”
“What?”
“Whose condoms were these?”
I really hoped he hadn’t asked that question, but I can’t lie. “My ex left them. When I threw him out, he didn’t bother to take them.”
I wouldn’t be surprised if Rowdy was repulsed by that idea. I think I would be, if I were him.
But he assigns nothing negative to that fact.
“Now I’m gonna fuck you with your ex’s condom. How does that make you feel?”
Oh my god.
“Alive.”
Rowdy’s fingers find my heat once again; he guides in the tip. I push back. I’m so wet. It takes a little effort before he pushes in and finds his way home.
It doesn’t take much for him to be buried to the hilt inside me.
Once that happens, I firm up my grip on the cushion once again, my mind reeling at how hard he is, how much he stretches me.
I feel him in every movement and muscle.
“You’re good?”
“So good, Rowdy,” I moan.
With a growl, he pulls out and pushes again inside, thrusting slightly harder, gauging what I can take.
“Harder.”
He whispers something unintelligible, then covers my back with his bare chest. The heat of him over me is all strength and warmth. It’s the kind of comfort that I didn’t know I needed.
That cock drives into me harder and harder, over and over, until my cries of need transform into moans of pleasure. With every stroke, he hits a spot inside. I’m in the moment. I’ve lost the ability to think about anything but him and me. Together.
Pleasure rushes up my spine with every thrust.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Riley. Just looking at you makes me have to fight the urge to come.”
Ridiculous thing to say, and yet it’s working for me. The sounds of our bodies slapping together grow louder and louder, faster and faster. Did I remember to lock the downstairs door?
And again I’m pulled back into the moment with another rush of electricity as I push back, and he slams into me.
“You feel so good, Rowdy,” is all I can manage. I’ve never been good at off-the-cuff dirty talk.
My nipples rub against the cushion, starting to feel so sore. Well, I’m gonna feel sore everywhere tomorrow.
Rowdy gives one final push, and it’s so hard and so good, the couch slams against the wall, knocking loose bits of old mortar from the brick.
I don’t care.
Looking back, I watch Rowdy bare his teeth, then lean over me again, pressing into my shoulder blade. He grinds out his release. I grip down hard, milking him.
“That’s it. You take it. Get it out, get it all out of me. Fuck!”
