She didn’t want control. She didn’t want plain missionary. She wanted all of him. There was a time for sweet and romantic and a time for rougher full-on sex. This was one of those times.
Reaching down, she pulled his shirt up, Mike leaned back and helped her take it off without missing a beat. Destiny’s hands roamed over the swell of his chest, dipping along the contours of his abdominal muscles. She loved his body for the work of art it was. Last night, her bedroom had been dark, so she didn’t have a chance to really explore his body. Now he was a golden god on display with the kitchen lights above shining a beacon on him.
It wasn’t just his physique that she loved about his body, it was all the scars. They told the story of a warrior. He was no stranger to danger. He could tell her until the cows came home that he worked behind a desk, but his body spoke of another story. One riddled with pain and suffering.
She leaned forward and kissed a deep scar on his chest right above his heart. It was about four inches long and raised. It must have been painful. Mike’s rhythm stuttered for a moment then his eyes tracked her as she leaned forward and kissed another scar on the other side of his chest near his collar bone. This one looked like a bullet wound.
She wanted to ask him how he received so many scars but knew he would never tell her. He’d give her some made of story about a giraffe incident or something to deflect her. It sucked, but it was a reality.
Her fingers traced over another scar on his ribs, but before she could attempt to contort herself to kiss it, Mike distracted her as he swiveled his hips and hit a spot that made her gasp.
He did it again and again until she was quaking. If he did it to distract her, he succeeded. All her mind could focus on was what he was doing to her. His hard cock thrusting in and out of her. His lips kissing and nipping her neck. God, she loved the nipping. It made her toes curl as another orgasm rippled through her.
Mike buried his head in the corner of her neck as his rhythm picked up, his hips snapping back and forth, his hands digging into her hips. He dragged her further off the counter until her butt was no longer on it and he was supporting her whole weight. Destiny arched back using her grip on her legs around his hips to meet him thrust for thrust. She scored her nails down his back, clinging to him, loving his deep guttural groan. The new angle hit her g-spot just right. Destiny pulled Mike close and clamped her blunt teeth down on his shoulder as the climax rolled over her like a freight train. Mike groaned, following right behind her.
“Wow,” Destiny said when she could catch her breath. Now she was ready to curl up in bed and pass out. Mike stumbled forward and set her back down on the counter. She leaned back against the cupboards groaning when her head hit one. Again. How did she keep forgetting the thing was there?
Oh yeah, she had a sexy man that made her forget everything.
Mike picked his head up but didn’t join her in laughter. He looked so serious. How could he be serious after that wild lovemaking? And it had been wild. As wild as she’d ever gotten. She’d only ever made love in a bed and in missionary position. This was fun and erotic. She hoped they got to do it again. Well, maybe not the kitchen. She did cook in here. There had to be some barriers.
“I keep forgetting it’s there,” she explained.
“I’m sorry.” He said that before. She’d been lost in the passion to pay it much mind while she couldn’t get her legs to work right, and her brain felt fuzzy and ready for sleep. His tone made all of that fade away. She didn’t like it at all.
“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who keeps leaning back,” she said, intentionally misunderstanding what he was apologizing for.
Mike shook his head sadly. “That wasn’t what I was apologizing for, but I’m sorry you hit your head.”
“Then what?” She knew she was going to regret asking.
“For taking you like that.”
“What?” Taking her like what?
“Like an animal. You deserve soft and gentle, and I couldn’t.” He lowered his head in shame as he stepped back. He threw the used condom in the trash under the sink and zipped his pants back up. Then found his shirt she tossed on the floor and covered himself back up.
What the hell? That had been the best sex of her life and he regretted it over what? Because it hadn’t been slow and controlled. She was tired of him always treating her like a porcelain doll that would shatter at the slightest stiff breeze.
She was going to nip this in the bud quick.
Hopping off the counter and smoothing out her dress Destiny looked him dead in the eye. “Well, I enjoyed it. I don’t always want sweet and slow. It’s nice, but if that’s all we’re going to do it’s going to get boring quick. Trust me. I know from experience.”
Mike’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. She had irritated him by talking about other men. Well tough. It wasn’t like she wanted to flaunt her past boyfriends in his face—they weren’t worth mentioning—but he needed to know she wouldn’t tolerate him putting her on a pedestal. She planted her fists on her hips and stared him down. “I’m not made of glass. I may not jump out of airplanes and all the other stuff you do, but I’m not helpless.” She caught his lip twitch mentioning airplanes. So, she wasn’t far off the mark. “If we hope to have any kind of relationship you need to stop treating me like I’m delicate.”
“I’m a big man.”
She wasn’t arguing with him about that. He was.
“Yes, and I’ve proven more than once I can handle you. Gentle or fast, I can take it. I won’t break.” She feared if he kept that thought in mind, eventually he’d stop touching her all together. That would kill her.
Mike looked skeptical. Fine, he wasn’t fully convinced yet.
“You just admitted you were rough with me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“And do you see me in any pain, complaining?” No, her only complaint was he ruined her afterglow with bullshit.
