It’s barely perceptible at first, the way his shoulders lower by a fraction. Soon, his rigid muscles untense, and he’s slouching as much as his tightly muscled form will let him. He closes his eyes, and I can’t look away from the rain tracking down the sculpted lines of his face and neck. He could be made of marble, except for the small jump of his pulse in his neck. I want to drag my teeth across that spot.
It’s not what we agreed. It’s not scheduled, not color-coded, not thoughtfully placed based on mutual availability.
Pure, reckless impulse makes me grab his face and pull his rain-wet lips against mine. Our lips part on a shared breath. James’s body goes rigid again, this time from surprise. Then he’s kissing me back, his hands sliding into my wet, tangled hair, angling my face up to his. Our bodies shiver under our wet, heavy clothes, but the heat from our open, hungry mouths can’t be contained.
He hauls me up into his arms, one arm under my knees, the other under my back. He forcibly carries me back inside, and Ilet him, unresisting. Because he makes my body feel more awake than the rain did.
When he sets me down right inside the balcony doors, I don’t let him walk away. Grabbing his suit lapels, I tug off his suit, going right for his belt once his shoulders are freed. Water drips from us onto the expensive marble floor, but James doesn’t seem to give a shit, either. He helps me tear off my jeans, both of us stumbling backward into the apartment like horny teenagers.
We reach the edge of his plush living room rug, and I trip a little over the edge. James falls with me and lands on his knees, my body cradled against his. He lowers me down onto the rug, shoving away an armchair to give us room.
I know the odds are low that I’ll get pregnant outside my fertility window, but they’re not impossible. James must be thinking the same thing, because he doesn’t stop me when I pull his cock out from his trousers and position it at my entrance. He shoves an inch inside me and I shriek at the sudden stretch. We’ve never done this without foreplay, and it stings.
My body seizes, and James goes perfectly, eerily still.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “You weren’t ready. I shouldn't have?—”
“No.” I reach up, pushing back a dripping strand of hair that fell over his forehead. “I wanted it. It feels good.”
He shakes his head, and a little furrow forms between his brows. “I want to be careful with you, Maura. You need—youdeserveto be handled delicately.”
I cringe. James doesn’t know it, but he accidentally triggered one of the worst parts about being sick—the way people treat you like you’re breakable. Like they have to wrap you up in bubble wrap and keep you away from anything hard. They don’t realize that pain is inevitable, and insulating yourself from the world won’t protect you from it.
Well, screw that. Because I might be getting addicted to the perfect pleasure and pain combo James makes me feel. I don’t want to behandled delicately.I want him—all of him.
“Give me more.”
He closes his eyes and moans, like he’d like nothing better than to give me that.
“More,” I beg. “More. Make it hurt, please, James.”
He shakes his head and rolls off me. My body goes cold, and for a moment I think he’s not going to let me go any further. Instead, he yanks my hips up so I’m straddling him.
“You want this?” he asks, his eyes glittering with want. I nod eagerly, and he strokes my outer thighs in silent approval. “Then show me. Take me like you mean it.”
I take a breath, gazing down at him. He’s messier than I’ve ever seen him, still in his wet clothes, his dark hair askew. His sharp cheekbones look more shadowy and dangerous. He’s beautiful the way a panther is—elegant yet ferocious.
My hand circles around his thick cock, and he winces. I’m not sure if it's because my skin is so cold, or because he's struggling so much to hold back. I position him at my entrance, sliding his throbbing head against the sensitive skin. We groan simultaneously at the sensation, but he doesn’t push. He stares at me, his hands still gently stroking my thighs.
He’s not going to take me—not yet. He’s going to make me prove how much I want it first.
So I do.
I slide down quickly, forcing several inches of his thick cock inside me in one stroke.
“Fuck!” he roars, his eyes squeezing shut. A muscle jumps in his jaw from how hard he’s clenching it. It’s intoxicating, seeing how my body undoes him.
Letting out a breath, I lower down again, taking another inch.
It’s not easy to take him. With his size, it never will be. But my body is starting to get used to how it needs to stretch for him, and right now I’m craving him so fiercely, my desire overrides any concern for my body. My fingers dig into his firm, warm chest muscles as I lower down on top of him until his whole cock is buried deep inside me.
“That’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Good girl, taking all of me like that. Now ride me until you can’t think about anything except how full you are.”
My movements are slow and small at first, rocking my hips and grinding my clit against his pubic bone. James’s fingers tighten on my thighs. I love the way he digs into my skin hard enough to bruise. He touches me like I’m nothing fragile.
I whimper, and his eyes darken. “Can you take more?”
My head bobs eagerly. “Please.”
