He hesitates. “I don’t have any condoms.”
I grin a little. “It’s okay. I’m on PrEP.”
His mouth slams on mine as he hitches one leg up. His fingers fumble with the bottle again, then he stretches me quickly, but I don’t care. Soon, he’s holding his weight over me as he drives in hard, like he’s afraid he won’t last long.
“Stay with me.” I don’t even know why I said it, only that I don’t want this to end. If all he thinks about is how rare this is for him, he’ll lose the moment.
Jordan kisses me deeply, slowly. He cups my face before staring into my eyes. “I’m right here,” he whispers. He rolls inside me, emitting soft moans. “I’m right here,” he repeats, almost like a promise.
When our lips meet again, something changes. Suddenly, it’s the kind of sex that’s felt more than orchestrated. His kisses become reverent, and I lose track of who’s leading who. I feel him everywhere. On me, around me, deep inside me. Arching my back, Jordan kisses down my throat then pushes himself up, hair tickling my sensitive skin. He looks incredible, all muscle and sweat and raw passion as he fucks me. But with the light on, I can see his face too. The fullness, the depth. Thelove.It rattles my heart.
He’s doing what I’d asked him to do.Jordan’s making love to me.
He smiles at me, then rolls us over. Insecurity bubbles in me, since I’ve never been on top before. No guy has ever let me.Jordan’s hands trail up my thighs, encouraging me to rock. His expression tells me he needs this.
I move. Bracing myself on his chest, I ride Jordan. We move like we’re made for this, like it’s a language we’ve always known. Our lips occasionally find each other, breaths mixing, yet our hands never stray. My cock bounces freely, hot liquid dribbling everywhere, and my muscles ache as sweat rolls down my back.
I hunch over him, breathless and panting, about to suggest a new position when his hands dig into my thighs and he drives up.
“Miles! Oh, fuck yes! Miles!”
His mouth parts, eyes blown wide and neck corded. He thrusts again, then again, nailing my prostate. As I cry out, he shouts and heat fills me on the inside.
Jordan drives into me faster, his hot seed making every movement so much better. I roll my hips and curl a fist around my aching dick to join him.
“Jordan,” I plead. I don’t even know what I need, only that I need more.
He covers my hand, still thrusting but softening fast. I cry out as my balls tighten. He leans up to kiss me, touching the sensitive head with his thumb. Instantly, I spill over, hot and thick, all across his chest.
We collapse in a heap, tangled in sheets and limbs, but still together. Jordan gives me a sated, breathless, lust-drunk smile, and I swear something in me shatters and melts all at once.
He rubs my back and kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”
I can’t reply. Not yet.
But my heart? It’s already spoken. I’m a goner to this man. And I can’t even blame it on the wine.
I was gone before I ever took a sip.
****
The next day, Jordan gets up to serve the Queen her morning meal. When he returns, he pulls me close as the little spoon and we fall right back to sleep. We wake up around noon, but spend a couple of hours cuddling instead of rushing out of bed.
Finally, when my bladder can’t take it anymore, I get up and gingerly walk toward the bathroom. Moving is not pleasant. Not only is my ass sore, but my muscles are screaming from the prolonged workout. It’s not only the physical ache too, it’s my head. Damn wine.
But wow, had last night been incredible.
Jordan smirks, a little smug, when I finally join him in the kitchen. He slides two white tablets across the counter. “What’s your preferred hangover remedy?”
Is it that obvious that I feel like shit? “Orange juice and a tiny bit of vodka.”
He gets it for me, then stands behind me, kissing my neck. “I’m going to be honest. I’m kinda sad you were drunk last night, because that was…” He whistles. “Amazing.”
“Mmm, well, lucky for me, I’m a drunk who remembers things.”
He leans over my shoulder to see me.
“I remember everything.”
