“Did the trick,” I bite out, nudging my chin toward her pillows. “Get up there.”
“Good. Right. Um…” Her hands flutter up to the waistband of her underwear. “Could you just put it in? Like last time?”
“Hell, no.” I mutter, losing parts of my control I hadn’t even felt break away. “We both blew right through that Unnecessary Foreplay rule today. What was that? Rule 4 or 5?”
“I don’t know.”
“Nudity’s what? Rule 6.” Her annoyed hum wipes out every last bit of humor. “Go ahead. Take those off,” I order, hoarse and rough. I want to last. Please make this last. Make it good for her.
“Oh. Okay. Right.” She looks around like she’s never seen the place before, drags her panties all the way down and scrambles up the bed. Despite our age difference, she’s so young in this moment, a little lost. There’s a tenderness to the way I feel that I’ve never experienced.
Better lose that.
“On your back,” I tell her, gruffer than I intend. “Legs spread. Like the first time.” Only better. Because I can see her. Taste her. Touch this gorgeous skin. The rules are dropping around us like flies.
She flips to her back and spreads out. I’ll think about how eager she is later, but right now, I need inside her.
“Good.” I crawl over her. “I’m touching you, Kit. Rule 2 is history.”
“Oh. Oh. Yeah.” She nods quick. “Sure. If it’ll help.”
Help.Right.Christ, this is some fucked-up charade.
I look down at her tits, then hold back a desperate groan as my hand lands on one. Fuck, she’s soft. Big. More than a handful, like her ass and the curved belly she highlights with those fancy dresses she wears to work.
When she arches up to meet my touch, my cock spurts out a fresh dose of lubricant and if I don’t slide inside her quick, this game’ll be over long before it’s even started.
Which, I have to remind myself,again, is absolutely not the point.
The point is getting her pregnant. Which…she could already be.
My body stutters to a halt, I blink down at her, images racing through my mind and they’re not just of her big and pregnant, they’re of a kid that looks like her. Or like me. My dark hair,her warm brown eyes. Both of them on a porch swing out front, laughing. She’s singing. The kid’s?—
No. Fuck.
I focus on her, concentrate.
Make it last. Make it last.
Could be the last time.
Slow, slow, I let my eyes roam over her body, then, because I can, I follow their path with my palm.
She goes a bright, pinkish red, the color crawling from her chest and up to crest atop her cheeks. “Fuck, Kit, look at you.” Hip, waist, breast, throat, shoulder, I shove the tenderness back and stroke and measure and knead all of her, eating up the way her body responds—like a live wire.
Make it last.
“You ready? Wet enough?”
“Oh…oh, maybe.” Her hands hover like she wants to touch me but doesn’t quite dare.
“Should I…” I clear my throat, shut my eyes against the pleasure, and decide to push the button again. “Maybe check you? Make sure I’ll slide right in?”
With a shiver and a dry sounding swallow, she nods quick and eager. “Probably.”
“Yeah.” Easing my weight onto one arm, I slip one finger through her lips. She’s soaking. No surprise. I slide it inside her. “That okay?” At her quick nod, I let another finger join the first. I ease them deep, curve them toward me, and enjoy how blissed out she looks when her eyes go to that half-mast point and her mouth drops open. “That still fine?”
No words, but her response is good enough for me. A quick series of gasps to punctuate each press of fingers to G-spot.
