But he did it again, and… Oh God, yes, he was most definitely allowed to do that.
He kissed her again, open-mouthed, using his tongue inside her to do things she didn’t know the human body could do.
She didn’t come, but she was so close when he lifted off of her and pulled her to sit up.
She mewed in protest, since that was the only sound she could make. Then watched wide eyed as he stood, walked to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of champagne, and took a pull like it was a bottle of beer.
His dick stood to attention in his boxers like a flagpole as he knelt in front of her and lifted the bottle to her lips, tilting it only enough so she got a sip and not a shower. Then he took her hand and placed it between her legs, rubbing with his finger over her finger.
She didn’t argue, because what the hell was there to argue about?
She touched herself even as he removed his hand and set the bottle back down. She slid her fingers lower to touch inside herself as he rummaged through the pile of clothes, finally coming up with his jeans. He grabbed his wallet, opened it, and pulled out a condom.
Then he obviously saw what she was still doing to herself, and he growled a feral sound that only made her crave him more.
He sheathed his erection, and, like she weighed nothing, he picked her up. Boxed her in with the wall at her back.
Her breaths came more quickly, and her eyes must’ve gone wide.
Oh, shit.They were doing this.
"Legs around my waist," he commanded, lifting her up, so they aligned perfectly.
She followed his instructions because… Hell. Yes.
He kept their gazes locked while he slid into her millimeter by millimeter. He didn’t go fast. The invasion was slow. Tender. Allowing her to adjust to the bulk of him while the connection between them became unbreakable.
When he was seated fully inside her, he kissed her mouth like she was air, and he was drowning.
"I’m sorry," he said. The cords of his neck taut, and the vein along his throat pulsing visibly.
"For what?" she asked. It came out like a whisper because she was well and truly pinned against the wall and she had little air to work with.
"For not sucking your tits against the wall," he said. And then any control he had snapped. He was as feral as the growl before, pumping inside her. Using the wall as leverage to move in and out.
She was not as quiet as she would’ve hoped, because this was like nothing she’d experienced in her entire life.
"You can come now," he said, as he thrust inside her one more time.
Fully seated there, she tensed around the hard length of him. Her legs held tight around his waist as fresh waves of pleasure pulsed through her.
He finally urged her to put one leg down, and then the other. She used the wall to help hold herself up as he pulled himself from her body. But he didn’t have her stay there. He picked her up and carried her to the sofa like she was precious.
Then he covered her with a blanket, dealt with the protection, and finally sat beside her. He pulled her against him and murmured how much he enjoyed what they’d done. Honestly, his aftercare was on point.
"Mach?" she asked his name. "Can I ask a question?"
"Anything."
She reached to trace the scar at his bottom lip. "Where did you get this?"
"Fell off my skateboard when I was twelve and hit my chin on one of those metal railings. It wasn’t a big deal." He pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Then he paused, seemingly ready to offer her more. "I, uh, was between families so I was in a group home. Those were the worst, you know?"
She didn’t, but her heart hurt for him all the same.
"Who cleaned you up?" she asked, still staring at the scar.
He looked at her funny. "I did."
