“Ok,” he said. “We can stop.”
“I don’t want to stop.” I pulled on his shoulders and he sat up to hug me. “Just for a second.”
“We can take all the seconds,” he told me, but after only a few, I got the urge to kiss him more. Then we turned and lay back on the bed, him next to me but sheltering my body beneath his as he leaned over. When he touched my breasts through my bra, it was like a tingling current and I wanted to feel that without the lacy barrier. I reached to unclasp it and he helped me.
He cupped underneath my breast and then moved his hand up, so that he brushed against my nipple. I did the same thing, reaching between his legs to feel his balls and then drawing my hand up the hard shaft. He must have shared the same opinion about fabric barriers because he reached down and pulled those boxer things and then kicked them away. But then he wanted to equalize again, and he carefully kissed my stomach, making me squirm because his stubble tickled a little. He kissed my hipbones, too, and used his teeth to gently nibble at them. He also used his teeth to pull down the top of my leggings.
He paused and looked up at me. I nodded so he removed those and the tights under them, then also my nice underwear. We were at the same level of nudity and he did the same thing he hadbefore, leaning over to kiss me so that I was covered by his body, in a protected harbor. I felt his skin against me, warm but with the hard muscle beneath it. I wrapped my leg over his to pull him closer and he put his thigh between mine.
I moved my hips, rubbing against his quad, and it felt so good. It felt so good that I forgot to kiss back and he pulled away to watch me. Then he played with my breast and he smiled when I turned my head on the pillow, moaning softly.
“I love this,” he said. “Are you close?”
“Can you touch me?”
He moved his leg and first used the heel of his palm, which was amazing, and then he used his fingers. “Is this better?”
Yes, it was even better than amazing. He dipped his head and suckled my nipple and the flicks of his tongue combined with the massage of my clit made me lose my breath for a moment. I gasped in air and it caught, and then an overwhelming rush of pleasure swept through me.
“Come here,” Ronan said, his voice husky. He was rolling a condom down his length and then he rolled us, too, back to me straddling his hips as he leaned against his pillows. “You ready for me?”
I was, but I wasn’t up to speaking in words yet. I had never felt anything so good before—not until I felt him slowly sliding inside me. “Judas Priest,” I gasped. “You’re so big—it’s perfect.” We both looked down at where our bodies were connected now, fitting just right. His hands moved from my hips to my back, to tilt me forward and kiss me.
And the feel of that…oh. “That’s really good,” I said. “Really, really.”
He moved, starting a rhythm. “Like that?”
“Oh—oh—”
“Yeah, like that,” he groaned. He pulled me in for another kiss and I rubbed my breasts against his chest. Just like that. I had thought that the first orgasm was amazing, but the feeling of him inside me, stroking, and of our bodies meshing and massaging together, made it so much more. So much that when I came again, I collapsed against him as if I was made of jelly. His grip was on my hips again as he surged up and then he held me close.
“Cate, baby,” he said. “Good grief.”
“Mm.”
“We didn’t need to worry about compatibility,” he told me.
“Mm.”
“Are you all right?” He turned us over, so that I was on my back, and he carefully pulled free. I put my arms around his neck to hold him, though.
“It was wonderful. I don’t think anything could have been better.” I did loosen my grip, so he could sit up a little and look down at me.
“It feels like that was a challenge. You know how competitive I am,” he said. “Let’s see…what if I do this?”
“Ronan! I don’t think I can again, not so soon.” Wasn’t there some kind of biological constraint on how many times you could orgasm?
No, apparently there was not. Or maybe he had figured out a way to shatter nature’s laws, because I came again against his mouth, and again when we did it on a chair (we’d been heading to the kitchen for snacks, but got waylaid).
“I’m so glad you’re my roommate,” he said when we had returned to his bed.
I was, too, and I was his real roommate—I wasn’t going to leave and go to the other bed that was supposed to have been mine. Not ever. “Me too.”
“I get to share a one-eyed crocodile and I also get the prettiest, smartest woman in the world. Thank God for those rats.”
“I know. I’m so grateful, but I think they were giant mice.”
“I’m so grateful for you,” he told me. Then he kissed me, and I was grateful that somehow, I’d ended up here. We could travel somewhere else, maybe next season or maybe in a decade, but it didn’t matter. I realized what I’d been missing when my “hey, there” welcome mat and my couch pillows still hadn’t made my apartment feel like home.
