My stomach fluttered. He rocked on his heels and grinned, his thumbs in his pockets and his star-print boxers tented.
I had to do something. Put on music? No. That’d put too much pressure on a striptease, and I didn’t have a playlist or routine ready. “Can I turn on the TV?”I asked.
He pulled his shoulders back and crossed his hands in front of his pants. “Oh, yeah. We can watch TV. We don’t have to do anything.”
The butterflies in my stomach flapped harder. He was fine just hanging out? Not angry? Not exasperated, even when he was hard and aching and I’d been leading him toward a happy ending? “I meant for background noise,” I said. It’d be distracting, but not too much.
He cracked a smile. “Ah, yes. But don’t put on Space Spies 3009. I actually want to watch that.”
“Okay.” I switched on a movie I’d seen a hundred times, then slid under the covers, dragging them up to my shoulders.
He tilted his head at me. “You good?”
“Just cold.” I had goosebumps, though I doubted it was from the temperature.
“Should I warm you up?” he asked with such an awkward gesture I had to bite back a laugh. If he was going to use a line, he had to commit to it. “I could grab another blanket,” he said.
“Hm, I don’t know.” I wriggled out of my pants, then kicked them out from under the blanket. “I think I need the body heat.”
He snorted a laugh, shed his pants, then climbed into bed with me. “So, you like cheesy lines?”
Not always. I slid over his outstretched arm and rested my wrist over his heart, our pulse thrumming in sync. “I like you,” I said.
“I like you too.” He smiled softly, his dimples a perfect crescent, a peek of joy and what could be.
Our knees brushed as we embraced. Then our lips met, our feet tangled. Again. Wandering. Hard, soft, tender things. He slid my bra strap down to rub my shoulder, then peppered kisses along my collar. Shivering, I dragged his head towards my neck. Everything tingled and flexed.
He groped my ass, his fingers cupping the flesh under the fabric. Every touch increased the urge to fit our bodies together. We tangled and humped just enough to create friction.
My clit throbbed, desperate for attention. Our chests grazed in our rhythmic passion. My bra scraped my nipples in a delicious pinch. I gasped and opened my legs wider.
“You look so fucking sexy,” he whispered.
Good.I held on and believed him. The balm of our trapped heat lubricated our kisses.
He massaged the damp strip of fabric between my legs, then propped himself up to get a better angle.
“Fuck, yes,” I murmured, stroking his jaw. My eyes fluttered shut when he increased the pressure. I humped his hand, seeking more contact. We went slow, at first. I stroked his shaft to determine his shape.
He moaned into a kiss, and I curled my toes into his leg. Did he like me, or a general helping hand? We sent shallow thrusts into the other’s ministrations. The more we kissed and caressed, the more I needed. A knot of tight desperation gathered in my sex.
“Deeper,” I said.
He obliged, pumping his long fingers into my sex. Fuck this stupid fabric. It prevented me from taking all of him. I thrashed and jerked him off, chasing our orgasms. I was so close. So wet.
He withdrew his fingers, and I’d barely let out a bereft groan before he slid his hand under my waistband to palm my thigh instead of my sex. His hazy eyes met mine in a silent question. Should he go lower?
I nodded and kissed him, shifting to let him in easier.
He sucked my lips and dipped his fingers into my heat. My muscles clung to him, greedy for more. He pumped me with languorous, luxurious strokes, then rubbed my clit with the determination of a professional gamer with an analogue stick.
My senses slammed into overdrive. “Oh, oh, oh,” I keened, my hips launching off the bed. Lightning bliss shot through my clit, conducted by his fingertips. Euphoria tingled from my breasts to my toes. “Oh fuck.” I gasped, gripping his shaft.
“You’ve got this,” he said, playing with my clit.
I was electrified. Gone. Fused to passion and sex and this fucking perfect person with his hand in my slit. I clamped my thighs together and moaned, pushing his wrist lower as the waves of pleasure crashed through my senses.
He kissed my shoulder just as it all receded, and I convulsed with one last spark of satisfaction.
