“Jesus. Touching yourself while I’m buried inside you? Fuck, Sienna.”
“You feel incredible. I’m getting close.”
He drove in deeper. “Fuck yes. Make yourself come like this. You look so fucking hot.”
My fingers moved faster. The way he watched me, blue eyes locked like he couldn’t look away, sent me spiraling.
The orgasm crashed through me hard. My back arched off the bed as a broken cry tore from my throat.
My thighs shook around his waist as he groaned deep and slowed his thrusts, letting me ride every pulsing wave.
When I finally went limp, my hips sank back to the mattress. He followed me down, pressing me into the sheets, still buried deep. His warm, ragged breath brushed my ear.
I cupped his jaw, the rough stubble scraping against my palm.
“I want to make you come too,” I panted, hips rolling into him. “So just use me, Brock. Use me however you need.”
He froze. Inside me, his cock twitched, swelling even thicker.
“Fuck, Starlin’… You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.” He kissed me hard, hot and breathless. “But I’m gonna take it anyway. Every bit you’re giving me. While I still have you.”
I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him deeper, arms locked around his neck.
Then he let go of his control.
He drove into me, his thrusts knocking the air from my lungs. The headboard hit the wall in a steady rhythm. Every time I moaned, he seemed to lose a little more control, like my reactions only pulled him closer.
“Feel that?” he gritted out. “How deep I am? I want you to remember this later. Every time you sit down on that plane, I want you to feel me.”
“I do,” I moaned. “So don’t stop.”
He groaned, hips starting to stutter. "You feel too good. I can't—fuck, I don't want to stop."
I didn’t want him to stop either. Still aching, still incredibly sensitive, I lifted my hips to meet every thrust.
I wrapped my arms around him, careful of his left shoulder, my nails digging into the other. I wanted to leave marks.
His rhythm broke. He drove into me one last time and stayed there, pulsing deep inside as his body shuddered against mine. I pulled him closer, nails digging in, holding him through it.
Brock stayed buried in me for a long moment afterward, forehead pressed to mine while we both fought for breath.
He finally eased back, taking a moment to dispose of the condom. He rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him, tucking my face against his chest, the same way I’d woken up. His heart hammered under my cheek, wild and fast.
I stared at the ceiling. My body was still buzzing, but my mind had already left the room.
Suitcase. Airport. Flight. The seconds were slipping away.
My throat tightened. His fingers found mine, laced together, and squeezed. I closed my eyes and pressed my face harder into his warm skin, breathing him in.
Eventually, his low voice broke the silence. “You okay?”
I nodded against his chest. “Yeah.”
He didn’t say anything else. He just kissed my forehead and tightened his arm around me.
Then my phone started ringing again, the sound muffled by the carpet. I sighed and reluctantly pulled away. Brock grumbled in protest, his hand sliding to my hip like he could keep me there, but he let it fall when I sat up.
My knees felt shaky as I climbed out of bed. My thighs were heavy, my body pleasantly sore. The cool air hit my bare skin, making me sharply aware of the wetness between my legs with every step.
