Say it, princess. Tell me you want me to fuck you raw.
But I catch myself halfway, the words dying on my tongue.
"Tell me if you want me to slow down," I say instead, voice rough.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes bright and a little stunned.
"I don't want you to slow down," she whispers. "I just want you to be here."
"I'm here."
"Then prove it."
We stumble toward the bed, knocking into the nightstand hard enough that one of the water bottles tips over and rolls onto the floor with a thud. She laughs, breathless and surprised, and I laugh with her, the sound rumbling low in my chest. We're still laughing when I ease her down onto the mattress, her hands fisting in my shirt as she pulls me with her.
She rolls her hips up against mine, deliberate, and the friction makes me groan into her mouth. Her hands slide into my hair, tugging lightly, nails scraping my scalp just hard enough to send sparks down my spine. I kiss her slow, deep, tasting champagne and strawberries and the faint salt of her skin, something sweeter underneath that makes me want to drown in her.
I pull back, breaking the kiss, and she makes a small sound of protest. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, lips swollen and parted. I yank my shirt over my head in one rough motion and toss it aside. She watches me, gaze dragging slow and deliberate over my chest, lingering on the ridges of my stomach, dipping lower to where my pants are already too tight.
Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and the look she gives me is pure hunger.
"Fuck," I mutter, hands going to my zipper.
"You're very proud of your..." she starts, teasing, but then her voice softens. "You know what you're doing with that."
"Do I?"
"You always have."
I don't feel like I do. Not tonight.
Tonight feels different. Like if I move too fast or say the wrong word, this whole fragile balance between us will shatter.
I unbutton her jeans and slide them down her legs, and she lifts her hips to help. Her underwear follows, lace pooling on the floor, and then she's naked under me and I can't breathe for a second.
I kiss her tenderly, hands mapping her body like I'm trying to memorize it. The curve of her hip. The dip of her waist. The soft skin of her inner thigh, already slick with her arousal, trembling under my touch.
She reaches for my wallet on the nightstand, fishing out a condom with a shaky laugh. "Not to break the spell," she murmurs, tearing it open. Her fingers wrap around me, strokingonce, twice, firm, teasing, before rolling it on slowly, her eyes locked on mine, heat building between us.
When I push inside her, I go slow, inch by inch, savoring the tight, wet grip of her. Watching her face the whole time, lips parted, breath hitching as she adjusts to my thickness, filling her completely.
Her eyes flutter shut, mouth falling open in a soft moan, and I pause, just for a second, buried deep, feeling her pulse around me. Just to look at her, flushed and undone.
Her hand finds my face, palm warm against my jaw, and she pulls me down into a kiss that feels like an answer to a question I didn't know I was asking, tongues tangling slow and deep, her hips rocking up to take me deeper.
We find a rhythm, familiar but different. Not frantic. Not proving anything. Just us, long, tender thrusts that grind against her most sensitive spots, her slick walls clenching with every slide, building that sweet, aching pressure.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails biting skin, and I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in, musk and salt, feeling her pulse hammering against my lips as I nip the tender skin there, drawing a whimper.
I shift my angle, hitting deeper, my hand slipping between us to circle her clit with my thumb, wet, slippery circles that make her gasp and arch, chasing the edge.
When she comes, it's quiet but intense, almost surprised, her body tightening like a vice around me, fluttering and pulsing, a rush of fresh wetness coating us as she gasps my name, trembling through it.
I follow a few thrusts later, groaning into her hair, spilling hard inside the condom with the aftershocks of her milking every last drop from me. Then we're both still, tangled together, breathing hard, skin slick with sweat.
I roll onto my side, pulling her with me, and she curls into my chest like it's the most natural thing in the world, her heartbeat syncing with mine, soft sighs escaping as she nuzzles closer.
Her hair is a mess. Her eyes are bright. She's still buzzing, I can feel it, the same high she had at the pub but deeper now, amplified, her thigh draped over mine, body humming with lazy afterglow.
