Like we could stop this at any time and both of us lie here like nothing had happened. Me in a T-shirt and briefs. Him in his jeans and a hoodie. My hand still between us as I let my fingers creep under his waistline. Twisted my arm around so I had that line of hair in the palm of my hand. Further down as my head went fuzzy.
Who was I kidding? This was not safe. This was dangerous and unreal and terrifying and…
My hips were bucking into him, meeting his thrusts. My hand down his jeans.
And a little further.
Oh God. Please.
“Come for me,” he breathed.
Like I knew how to do that. Like I was anywhere close. Like this wasn’t just a messed-up daydream like the ones that played out in my head at night.
I could feel his cock, sliding into my grip. Hard. Warm. Right there as he let a sound slip from his throat. Deep. Desperate.
Mine. That sound? It was all mine. Unexpected. Frighteningly real as I moved my fingers around him. Up. Down. And up again as his mouth crashed into mine.
He came. Right there, filling the palm of my hand with everything that he was. Wet. Warm. Real.
Very fucking real.
It must have been the shock, I thought, as my head once again flew back, allowing his mouth to latch on to my neck. Hard. Wet. Heady.
My own release.
My hand still full of him. My briefs catching a load.
He hadn’t even touched me. Not properly. Not really.
And I came. Another squirt that made my body twist to the side, the warmth pulsing through me like a fire I couldn’t contain.
Hot and cold.
Him and me.
I hadn’t realised how close I’d been. How wound up he’d made me. What he’d made me do.
“Georgie.” Against my skin.
I felt exhausted. Like I’d been on fire and was still burning out. Everything…too much.
“Uhhh,” was all I could muster as he tried to wrap himself harder around me.
My hand was dead. My fingers sticky, coated in him. I never wanted to wash my hand again. I wanted to keep him there. A memento of the time he…allowed himself this.
To be mine.
Just for a second. Or two.
“You’re my baby,” he said. I could feel his mouth widening into a smile.
“Arsehole,” I huffed out.
“No.” He was still smiling. I could hear it. His hand moving down and then…there it was. His hand cupping my briefs. My very wet briefs.
“Good,” he whispered, gently kissing my cheek. Then he moved his hand away. Shuffled on the bed. Tucked me up like a baby, with the covers up under my chin. Shuffled again until his body was on its side, against my hip. Me on my back. Him leaning over me.
One arm holding him up, the other carefully removing my glasses. Placing them on the side.
