“I realize that now. There is a nice chair over there.”
He scooped her up easily, and she clung to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist as he carried her into the family room. He lowered into the chair with her still straddling him, her anklescaught snugly between his back and the upholstery, holding her in place.
Her hands slipped between them, deft fingers working his button and zipper before lifting to help shove his shorts down. Neither of them broke contact, their mouths brushing and breathing the same ragged air as he shifted and pressed against her, sliding into her slick, waiting heat, joining and making them one.
She rolled her hips, deliberately slow, rising just enough to drag over him before sinking back down. No frantic thrusts, no wild pace. Just the steady grind of two bodies locked together with every movement a test, a tease, and a promise for each other.
It was measured, searching, and building. Not rushed, not careless.
Just two people finding their rhythm, finding their way back to each other, one ragged breath at a time.
Like them and their relationship.
Finding their way, what worked for them, what would make them stronger.
She clung on, her arms around his shoulders, her lips pressed to his, their tongues tasting and tangling, but not rushed. Not hard. Not even erotic.
More like a pace and mentality they had all the time in the world to treasure what they brought to each other.
And they did have that time. Two weeks of it.
Knowing he could do this again when he wanted—when they wanted—was freeing in itself.
When she slapped against him more aggressively, he knew she had found her rhythm.
The one that she was setting the tempo for them both.
“Jayce,” she mumbled against his lips.
“I’m here,” he said.
“Stay just like this. Let me get us there.”
It was what he’d been doing all along. Letting her take those steps.
He made the moves when she was ready, and she was telling him now she had it. She hadhim.
He willed his body to sit back and let her go. “It’s all yours,” he said.
She smiled against his lips. “Yes, it is. I like that too. I think you like it as much as me. To let go and allow someone else to make the decisions.”
Farrah wasn’t wrong. He’d never thought of it that way before, but it was freeing in itself.
He had no worries she’d let him down. No worries she wouldn’t get them both to where they desired to be.
She put her hands on his cheeks, held his stare, and he let her take over.
Her body moved over his, her speed, her actions, him being the receiver.
He was lost in the deep depths of her eyes as she rode him hard. Her body picking up steam, his teeth grinding not to let go before her.
She sensed, he knew because she was grinding harder, faster, her internal muscles squeezing him tight.
“Come in me,” she said. “Let me feel it. I want to feel itnow.”
It was as if he were hypnotized to end on her command, his body releasing into hers, her tension and twitching around him, her head landing on his shoulder as she let out a long groan.
He held her and when she started to sob, he let her break free. Let her get it out of her system that he had her too. That she wasn’t weak because she’d been dropping her son off for years and said it was fine, when he knew deep down it wasn’t.
