“Owen, I’m…”
My orgasm crashed over me like a wave and pulled me under. A scream ripped from my throat as my body bowed, every muscle seizing, my back arching off his chest. My vision whited out for a second, the reflection in the mirror blurring into a swirl of color and sensation. My walls clenched around his fingers, wave after wave of pure, electric pleasure radiating out from my core until my limbs went weak and boneless.
He held me through it, his arm tight around my waist, his mouth pressing soft kisses to my temple, my cheek, the corner of my lips. His fingers worked me gently through the aftershocks, extending the pleasure until the last tremor faded, leaving me trembling and spent against him.
There was only the sound of our ragged breathing.
He slowly withdrew his hand. My eyes fluttered open just in time to watch him bring his glistening fingers to his mouth. He never broke eye contact in the mirror as he sucked them clean,his tongue swirling around each digit, a dark, satisfied gleam in his eyes.
The sight sent a fresh, hot jolt through my exhausted body.
My turn.
I twisted in his arms, pushing against his chest. He let me go, surprise flickering across his face. Before he could speak, I straddled his lap, facing him, my knees bracketing his hips. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against me through his joggers, and a new, hungry ache bloomed deep inside me.
I leaned down and kissed him, slow and deep, tasting myself on his tongue, claiming his mouth the way he just claimed my body. He groaned against my lips, his hands flying to my hips, gripping tight.
When I pulled back, his eyes were glazed. His chest heaved.
My hands went to the waistband of his pants. I didn’t speak. I just looked at him as I shoved them down, freeing him. He helped me, kicking them off the rest of the way, his gaze never leaving mine.
I rose up on my knees, positioned myself above him, and sank down in one slow, devastating slide.
We both groaned. The stretch of him filling me so completely stole my breath. For a second, I just stayed there, letting us both adjust to the overwhelming sensation, savoring the fullness, therightnessof being connected like this.
Then I started to move.
I set a slow, grinding pace, riding him with deliberate rolls of my hips. My hands braced on his shoulders, my eyes locked on his. Leaning down, I let my lips brush against his ear.
“My turn to watch you,” I whispered.
He shuddered beneath me, a full-body tremor that I felt everywhere we touched. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers biting into my skin hard enough to leave marks, but he let me lead. Let me set the pace.
I kissed him again, pouring everything I couldn’t say into the press of my lips. He kissed me back with equal fervor, his tongue tangling with mine, his hands sliding up my back beneath my shirt to press me closer. The kiss was messy and desperate, all teeth and tongue and shared breath.
I rode him faster, deeper, chasing my own rising climax, but more than that, chasinghis. Watching his face as pleasure tightened his features. Feeling his abs clench against my stomach. Hearing his breath come in harsh pants that turned into groans, then turned into broken versions of my name.
“Harlow…fuck…baby…”
His thrusts became less controlled, more desperate, meeting my downward strokes with hard, upward drives of his own. The sound of skin against skin filled the room. He was getting close, I could see it in the strain of his jaw, the flutter of his eyelids, the way his grip on me turned almost painful.
“Come for me,” I breathed against his lips, echoing his earlier words. “Let me see it.”
His eyes squeezed shut, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as his hips stuttered and surged up into me one final, deep time. The hot pulse of his release deep inside me, the way he said my name like it was the only word that mattered, that sensation, that ultimate surrender, tipped me over my own edge again.
My second climax was shorter, sharper, a burst of light that left me gasping against his neck.
I collapsed forward onto his chest.
We stayed like that for a long time, a tangled, sweaty mess on the living room floor, my anatomy textbook forgotten beside us. Our breathing slowly evened out. The world came back into focus.
Eventually, he shifted beneath me, his arms wrapping around my back to hold me closer. His heartbeat pounded against my cheek.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Hungry?”
Smiling, I nodded against his chest. “Starving.”
He pressed a kiss to my lips, soft and sweet this time. “Go get dressed. I’m taking you on a date.”
