He eases his fingers from me and grips my cock with expert ease, squeezing and twisting. I arch from the bed, groaning. He’s so in tune with me he could make me come with this alone, but my entire body craves something else.
Something deeper.
I need him inside me.
Joss reaches for the condom. My sex-addled brain is disappointed he brought only one. Because I’m naive and horny and fuckin’ flying on how good he makes me feel.
I watch him roll it on, and he takes his time, like he’s giving me every opportunity to change my mind.
It’s the only moment we’ll ever have where I think he’s an idiot.
He runs out of seconds to burn.
A shiver skates through me.
He sees. “Are you cold?”
“You freakin’ serious right now?”
“As a shark attack.”
I’ve heard that phrase before, but my memory of when and where and who deserts me. There is no other time and place. No other soul on earth. For as long as we’re together like this, it’s just him and me.
He lines us up. More lube. Then he bears his weight down on me, pressing my back into the mattress, his cock against my ass, his hands planted either side of my head.
Can’t lie, it fuckin’ burns, but there’s a headiness too. A rush. It’s the same as the hit I get every time the physicality of being intimate with Joss overwhelms me, when his masculine body, his strength, reminds me that all this is brand new. But as he pushes deeper and deeper, the familiarity of this moment evaporates. Raw sensation takes over. Pleasure and pain fight for dominance, and I’m honestly not sure which will win. One hand flies to my head, the other grips Joss’s torso, fingers digging into his ribs. “Holy fuck. Fuck.Fuck.”
Joss stills, gaze pinned on me, reading every twitch and gasp. He doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He knows I am. He just waits for my shellshocked body to catch up.
Kisses me senseless to pass the time.
I can’t pinpoint the moment something changes. When the pinch of pain evaporates and the head-spinning sensation of being filled becomes more fuckin’ beautiful than I’m prepared for.
Joss starts to move again, rocking his hips, driving his cock inside me, lube helping the friction amp up into a blistering, dizzying slide and grind.
He’s fucking me.
Jesus holy.
I expect it to be awkward, like it was when I lost my v-card in high school, but it’s not. Of course it’s not. It’smyfirst time with a dude, but it isn’t Joss’s. He’s a fuckin’ master, and as much as thinking about him with other guys makes me want to bleach my frontal lobe, I’m grateful for the expert way he shifts my body. The laser precision of his dick inside me. It’s electric and mind-blowing, and hotter than any of the filthiest dreams I’ve had since I met him.
I want more.
No. Ineedmore.
Gritting down, I hook a leg over his hip, drawing him closer.Deeper. I bring my lips to his ear and whisper every dirty word I’m capable of. “Harder. I want it harder.”
Joss digs his teeth into his bottom lip. We’re covered in sweat and shaking together. In the corner of the room, there’s a cracked mirror. With only the light from the lamp, I can barely see, but over Joss’s shoulder the reflection of his muscular ass consumes me. The flex of it as I urge him on. The curve of his spine as he molds his body around me.
He quickens his pace, thrusting in and out of me, catching my prostate. A harsh groan rattles me and then him, and we’re so connected I can’t fuckin’ cope.
Iclingto him, my fingers slipping on his sweat-sheened skin. “Joss.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“I know.”
“Ride it, baby. You’re gonna love it.”
