“Sy,” I breathed, nose pressed to his, panting now. The urge to lean back and ride him like my life depended on it coiled in the pit of my stomach, my hips, my thighs, an aching, throbbing need.
I wanted this to last, though. If we were forgetting all about it once we were home, I needed to wring every drop of pleasure out of it.
“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, running his palm over my butt, giving it a firm squeeze.
“That,” I gasped, a spike of pleasure making my hips jerk. “You. Whatever you want.”
“No,” Simon said. My heart stuttered. No?
“I asked whatyouneed,” he continued. “Tell me.”
Fuck. Oh, this was going to ruin sex with anyone else for me. Forever.
Ireallyhad to make the most of it.
“Harder,” I admitted, voice cracking. “I need more.”
Simon nodded, catching my lips again as both of his hands covered my ass, thumbs digging into my hips as he tightened his grip. The pressure made me gasp, back arching.
Only to be pulled back down with more force than I would’ve given Simon credit for.
The sound that spilled into his mouth was one I’d never heard myself make before, a moan that ended in a whimper as he held my hips and thrust up, hittingjustthe right spot and making me see stars.
Then he did it again, and again. I hiccupped at the peak of every thrust, gasping for air, a wave of heat washing over me and pooling between my legs.
“Yes,” I managed, voice catching, eyes screwing shut. “God, yes.”
It came out as a whimper, but I didn’t care. I wanted Simon to know how good he felt, how good he was makingmefeel.
“My hand, or yours?” he asked. It took me a second to understand, and another few to think. I wasn’t sure I’d need a hand at all, but?—
“Yours,” I forced out, barely a word. “Your hand. Please.”
One of Simon’s hands moved away from my hip, the other one tightening further. Would he leave a bruise?
I hoped so. I wanted a mark to remember this by, even if only for a few days. I could take pictures. Then I’d always know it’d been real, even if we never talked about it again.
A sharp cry escaped me as Simon brushed my cock, the backs of his knuckles running along the underside, thumb spreading precome along the length. I ground against him, whimpering into his mouth, head spinning between the feeling of his cock inside me and his fingers against me.
When he curled them around me, I saw stars again. I almost tipped over right away, clenching every muscle I could to prevent it. I wanted just a few more minutes, a little more of Simon to squirrel away and come back to when I needed it most.
“Got you,” Simon encouraged. “Want you to come first.”
I laughed. Obviously.Obviously, Simon would be more worried about me than himself.
I bent down to his ear. “Make me.”
Simon hummed.
The next thing I knew I was falling.
I landed flat on my back, mattress groaning under me, Simon on top of me.
“You asked for it,” he said, eyes glittering as he grinned down at me.
My heart pounded in my ears so hard I could barely hear him, the rush of arousal so intense that my vision closed in around the edges.
I reached out to grab his face with both hands, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pushed into me again, a brand new stretch that made me shiver, thighs tightening, toes curling.
