“Fuck,” he hisses, his rhythm faltering. “Do that again.”
I deliberately tighten around him, watching his face as pleasure overtakes him. His jaw tightens, a vein in his neck standing out as he fights for control.
“You're going to be the death of me.” He groans, shifting his angle to hit that perfect spot inside me.
I gasp, my back arching off the bed. “Troy?—”
He covers my mouth again, his eyes dark with desire. “Quiet, remember?”
The reminder that we're in his childhood bedroom, with his family down the hall, should be mortifying. Instead, it adds an edge of danger that heightens every sensation. His thrusts become more urgent, more demanding, and I meet each one, my body singing with pleasure.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs against my neck, his breath hot on my skin. “So tight, so perfect.”
His words send another rush of heat through me. I've never been one for dirty talk, but with Troy, everything is different. His voice alone could probably make me come.
He shifts us suddenly, rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him without breaking our connection. The new position drives him deeper, and I have to bite my lip hard to bite back a moan as he grips my hips.
“Ride me,” he whispers, his voice strained. “Take what you want.”
I begin to move, finding a rhythm that has us both breathing hard. Troy's hands slide up my body, pushing my shirt higher until I pull it off completely, tossing it aside. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of me above him, naked and wanting.
“Fuck, you're gorgeous,” he murmurs, his hands cupping my breasts.
The intensity builds between us, his thrusts matching mine, until suddenly—the bed creaks. Loudly.
We both freeze, eyes wide, staring at each other in the dim light. For a heartbeat, there's nothing but the sound of our breathing and the soft music still playing from his phone.
Then Troy's lips twitch. A small smile breaks through, followed by a barely contained snort.
I clap a hand over my mouth, trying desperately to hold in my own laughter. But it's no use—the absurdity of the situation, the two of us frozen mid-thrust like teenagers caught making out, is too much.
A giggle escapes me, and that's all it takes. Troy's shoulders start to shake, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he struggles to keep quiet.
“Shhhh,” I whisper through my own silent laughter, collapsing onto his chest.
“I can't,” he wheezes, wrapping his arms around me as we both dissolve into quiet hysterics.
“We're going to wake everyone up,” I whisper against his neck, my body still shaking with suppressed laughter.
“Worth it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
We lay like that for a moment, our bodies still joined, the mood shifted into something equally intimate but softer. When I look up at him, his eyes are warm, crinkled at the corners, hair mussed and cheeks flushed.
“Hi,” he says quietly.
“Hi back,” I reply, feeling oddly shy despite our current position.
His fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare back. “I like seeing you like this.”
“Naked?”
“Happy,” he corrects, though his hands slide lower to cup my ass appreciatively. “Though the naked part is definitely a bonus.”
I bite my lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with my lack of clothes. “I am happy. Right now. With you.”
Something flashes in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or pleasure—before he pulls me down for a kiss that's achingly tender.
“Let's finish what we started,” he whispers against my lips. “But maybe on the floor.”
