‘And sowet,’ comes his whispered admiration.
He slides inside.
There’s no loving connection in this position as we begin to move. This is fucking—hard and fast. Our positioning is tight, skin slapping against skin, my hips caught firmly in his hands as he controls our rhythm. Skin smacking and sliding; the noises might be embarrassing if I wasn’t wholly focused on the moment. Despite the ache in my shoulders and the burn in my thighs, I unconsciously chase the quicksilver beat rolling through my insides.
‘I can’t ever get enough of you.’ His words are a low growl. ‘I want to fuck you always, feel you turn molten in my hands.’
His voice, the razor-sharp scent of our desire, the sound of my wetness, the feeling of the zips teeth against the skin of my arse; with each powerful stroke, the sensations amplify, building until I’m balanced on the knife-edge of climax.
A strangled noise stems from deep in his throat, like this hurts him a little him, hurts in the right way. It washes over me. Surrounds me.
‘God, don’t stop, don’t stop!’ I cry as I’m pushed over that edge.
‘Never,’ he growls, fingers ploughing possession into the flesh of my hips. Holding me down against him, he moves no more himself, beyond the pulsing jolts of his release inside.
It’s still dark when I stir, reluctant to leave the very erotic dream filling my head. Cognisance muddied, it takes me a moment or two to recognize the weight of him lying against my leg. Not my subconscious, but reality.
‘You’re awake. Good,’ he whispers against the flesh of my shoulder, his hand moving to stroke between my legs. ‘Makes me feel less debauched.’
‘I thought I was dreaming.’ I rub my protesting eyelids, gasping loudly as he parts my already slick and swollen flesh.
‘You were, eyes flickering behind closed lids, an internal viewing for one.’ He presses delicate kisses against my neck, my hips tilting upward in reflex. ‘I was envious, wanted to know. And you looked so innocent, all curled up. But then your thigh draped against mine and you were wet.Sowet,’ he says, half growling. ‘I want all your pleasure, sweetheart.’ His finger strokes my nipple, exposed by his dragging on the sheet. The tip of his finger caresses in circles, the bud rising and stiffening. ‘Let me better your dream.’
My hands seek purchase against his back in the darkness as he rolls himself between my legs. Whispering low-spoken words, I open and welcome him, my hips arching to his slow thrusts.
‘Don’t turn from me ever again.’ Hands curled into fistfuls of pillow, his body rises over me. ‘Trust me to do the right thing.’
His mouth covers mine before I have a chance to respond, hips tilting and rocking deep. Fingers hooked under my shoulders now, he presses himself into me, skin against skin, soporifically perfect. Bliss.
‘You’re mine. Always.’
I know nothing more until the light of day.
