“Another time,” I just about manage to croak. I’m not coming this far just to cum too soon. Easing her back on the bed, I sidestep to grab a rubber from the bedside table. No questions are needed as I’ve already stated my intentions. I’m here for Meg. To challenge her, comfort her, fuck her, love her. Whatever she needs.
Once the condom is pulled into place, I lean over her again, bracing my weight on my forearms. My body covers hers completely. The heat of her skin sears me, the beat of her heart hammering against my chest. I position myself at her entrance, the broad head of my cock nudging against her wetness. We both freeze, preparing for the moment that seals our fate for good.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” I breathe. Meg stares up at me, not a trace of fear or regret in her eyes. Instead, there’s hunger mixed with adoration.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she smiles, wrapping her legs around my waist. I smirk back, the locking of her ankles nudging me to press in closer.
“You would have run a mile.” Any response Meg had is swallowed by the groans that escape us both as I push inside. She’s. So. Tight. My teeth grind together, her pussy squeezing my cock until I’m blinded by the ache of pleasure. My biceps tremble with effort to keep me from collapsing, her slick heat sheathing me inch by agonizing inch. I fill her completely, stalling as sweat pebbles my forehead.
“You okay?” I manage to grind out. Meg nods, although her mouth is open on a silent cry and her nails are biting into my shoulders. I drop my forehead to hers, allowing our breaths to mix as we both adjust. She’s mine now. Truly mine.
Meg moves first, a subtle roll of her hips that makes us both gasp. I pull back, almost sliding out before thrusting in again, slower this time. The drag is exquisite, a friction that borders on pain. Her cunt grips me, begging for more. I set a relentless pace, all of my bravado about making this last packing its bags and seeing itself out. There’s no holding back from the intense, animalistic desire to claim her. I'll savor her next time.
Driving into her with months of pent-up need, Meg’s eyes drift closed, her head being thrown back. I kiss the column of her throat, tasting the salt on her skin. The bedframe creaks inprotest, the headboard banging against the wall. She twists, her mouth claiming mine, her fingers clawing into my hair. I almost pass out when she scores lines across my scalp, my brain short-wiring. In an effort to regain the control I’m rapidly losing, my hand slides between us, finding her clit again.
Almost instantly, Meg shatters. Her orgasm catches us both off guard, her inner walls clamping down on me. I release her mouth to curse again, and her cry becomes muffled against my shoulder, her body arching beneath mine. I keep moving, riding her through it, my own release building. As soon as Meg’s body goes slack, I slow to a stop, burying myself inside of her.
“I…I want to make sure it’s good…for you,” I mutter, my blood on fire in my veins. Meg stirs, her eyelids fluttering open. Her gaze is hazy and sated, but it finds mine. She clamps her hands around my face, her fingers shaking slightly.
“You’re good for me. Now show me how much.”
Swallowing, I nod, a faint smile hitching the corners of my mouth. I start to move again, a shallow, grinding rock of my hips. It’s almost too much for both of us. The overstimulation makes her flinch, then moan, her body arching into me once again. Sitting back on my knees and grabbing her ass, I lift Meg higher and drive into her deeper. I become a man possessed, thrusting without any rhythm, only the need of release. How many times have I fucked my hand wishing it was her, wishing this was my view? Sinking my teeth into my lip, my hips snap with reckless abandon.
“Come for me, Thiago,” Meg breathes, her voice wrecked. Her nails scrape across my thighs. “I want to feel it.”
That’s all it takes to tip me over the edge. I pound into her one last time, deep enough for a white-hot rush to burst through me. Groaning a guttural sound, my body shudders as I spill myself inside the condom in overwhelming pulses. I imaginethere’s no barrier in the way, that I’m exploding directly into her core, but I wouldn’t be so reckless. Not even in the height of lust.
Meg rocks with me, coaxing my orgasm on until I collapse, catching my weight on my forearms at the last second. I’m buried in her, our skin slick with sweat, the air potent with the scent of sex. My heart hammers a frantic beat, slowly finding its way back to normality. Still, I don’t withdraw from her. Meg doesn’t try to rush us apart either. Her fingers trace my ribs, continuing to explore me. Her breath is warm on my shoulder.
I bask in this feeling, this bed, this incredible woman. I thought I had it bad for Meg before, but now, I’m a goner. I’d do anything she asked, which for a cyber hacker, probably isn’t the best mindset but the notion remains. I’m a one-woman man, and I’ve found the one I want to keep as my own.
Chapter Thirty Two
The sunlight hits differently today. Soaking into my skin instead of feeling like an insult, bouncing off my broodiness. I can’t tell if it’s the last push of warmth before autumn fully settles, or because I woke up wrapped in Thiago’s arms instead of tangled in the remnants of a nightmare. Either way, I’ll take it.
My shoulder bumps into his as we walk through campus, completely at ease in each other’s presence. I keep expecting my phone to buzz in my pocket with a cheeky message or dumb meme, and that when I blink back up, Thiago’s mirage will have faded. But the buzz doesn’t come, and he doesn’t disappear.
“So you painted. Like, with actual paint?” Thiago reiterates, equally amused and disbelieving. He probably would havebelieved I’d jumped out of a plane easier. The grin stretches across my face and I bump his shoulder again.
“Why would I lie about something like that?,” I scoff, sinking my hands into my jacket pockets. “I went into the studio, grabbed some paint, put on my headphones and let loose. It was terrible, but it was my first time trying. I just had the urge to put something on that damn canvas today, so I did.”
Thi’s head nods, a small noise coming from his throat. His hand swings loosely by his side, brushing mine every few steps, like neither of us has quite decided if we’re holding hands or not. There are eyes everywhere, bodies lingering on stone walls and outside of lecture halls. A light breeze rolls by, but any hopes that Thiago has dropped the subject are quickly dashed.
“Do you have a picture?” he asks. My eyes widen, a small stammer in my steps giving me away. Thi’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, you do! Let me see!” I twist away as he lunges for my jacket, his hands slipping underneath to tickle my ribs. I squeal, jerking around like a fish on dry land, trying to shoulder barge him aside. It’s no use and in the spirit of not causing any more of a scene, I offer out my phone.
“Don’t laugh, okay? I’m shy,” I admit, whilst Thiago makes a face that suggests I’m anything but shy. He flashes my screen at my face to unlock it, and immediately locates the image. I don’t know why I even took it, some lost hope that if I looked back upon it later, it might look a little better than I remembered. Thiago’s reaction, however, squashes that hope in an instant.
“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Attempting to grab my phone, Thi holds it out of reach, his entire body jerking as streams of hysterics leave him. Infuriatingly, he manages to keep me at bay with only his forearm, his eyes welling with tears. “I told you not to laugh!”
“I’m not,” Thi wheezes, bending away to hold his side. Jumping across him, I grab his neck and reach to snatch myphone back. Thi’s shoulders are still shaking, the back of his hand trying to muffle the dying fragments of laughter.
“Asshole,” I mutter. In an instant, his arms wind around my back, pinning me into him. His chest is firm, his biceps caging and not letting me wriggle free. I turn my head away from his wide grin, although his glee is infectious. Damn him.
“I can see that last night left quite the impression on you,” he nudges my jaw with his nose and grins the smuggest grin I’ve ever seen. I roll my eyes. He’s not wrong, but Thiago doesn’t need any more inflation on his ego.
“It was more this morning when you overslept. I had to beat you with a pillow to wake you up, and then wrestle you to get dressed. All that frantic energy had to go somewhere.”
A rumble passes through his chest, his blue eyes becoming heated, roaming over the low V in my tee. It’s from the pile he provided for me, along with the loose army-green cargo pants I’m wearing. I barely questioned how he knew my sizes, given that the everyday bra is both flattering and ultra-comfortable. I simply accept that Thiago knows me, and he cares enough to make sure I’m cared for.
