My body bursts into life immediately following my heart.
I kiss him back eagerly, teasing his tongue with mine and rubbing myself against his lower belly. I make a silly moan into the kiss.
He’s tensing up beneath me. I can feel the excitement in his muscles. When I scoot down slightly, I can feel it in a growing bulge at the front of his pants too.
His arousal feeds mine. The ache between my legs starts pulsing. I’ve got one hand tangled in his thick hair, and the other is greedily feeling his shoulder, his thick biceps.
After a couple of minutes, his fingers squeeze between our bodies and fumble with the button of my jeans.
I make a throaty sound of excitement.
“This okay?” he mumbles, breaking the kiss to press smaller ones all around my mouth and along my jaw.
“Yes! Get your hand in there.”
He chuckles, the soft amusement shaking his entire body. He slides his fingers inside my jeans and then my underwear. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawls right before he reaches my clit.
My spine arches involuntarily at the pressure of his fingers. It feels so good I gasp and shudder.
“Is that the right spot?” he asks.
It feels like his eyes are on me, but I can’t tell because mine are closed, all of me tightly attuned to the way he’s rubbing my clit. “Yessss.” I stretch out the last consonantsound in an embarrassing hiss. The pleasure has tightened into a mounting need, and I grind my hips against it.
“That’s right. That’s good. Ride my hand. Just like that.”
Shit, he’s sexy as hell. Even the sound of his voice. Has he always been like this?
It’s too deep a question to ponder at the moment. I move eagerly against his fingers until an orgasm breaks hard, spiraling from his touch to overwhelm my entire body. I use my fist to block my cry of release—our people are right outside that door—and ride the waves of pleasure until they’re done.
I laugh softly as I collapse forward onto his chest again. He wraps his free arm around me. His other hand is still tucked into my jeans, his fingers stroking me gently.
“Thank you,” I mumble, hiding my face against his shoulder. I don’t know why I’m suddenly shy. It’s not like me at all.
“You’re welcome. I’m at your service anytime.”
More amusement bubbles up, mingling with my sated languor.
“Shoulda told me you needed this kind of release before. I coulda been helping you work out your extra tension all these years.”
His words help brush away that inexplicable self-consciousness. Because he’s not declaring eternal love here. He’s not expecting me to marry him and have his babies.
He just wants to give me a good fuck.
And that’s what I want too.
I rub my whole body against his, moaning softly as his fingers in my underwear get more presumptuous. He’s moved them back slightly until he’s found my pussy and slid one finger all the way in.
“You’re real wet,” he says thickly.
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that you’re real wet.” It sounds like he’s smiling. “I like it.”
“To tell you the truth, I kind of like it too.” I move my hand down so I can feel the front of his jeans. The shape of his hard cock beneath the snug denim.
He moans long and low, the helpless sound resonating deep inside me.
When I’ve found my words again, I continue, “And since I can feel how much you like it, we might as well do something for both of us.”
