Page 156 of Offside

"I want to feel you." I was already lifting her. "I want you on me, I want to watch you come with me, I want⁠—"

She sank down onto me and I lost the rest of the sentence.

Nothing between us. There hadn't been in a while and I noticed it every single time, the raw unbuffered heat of her, and tonight it landed like the first time and worse. She took me all the way in one long slow motion and stopped there, seated, both of us stalled out, her hands flat on my chest and her hair falling around us and her breath shaking.

"Gud," I said. "Gud, Maren."

"I know."

"Move. Please move, baby."

She rode me in long strokes, up and down my cock, dragging the pleasure out of us.

And I lay there and let her, which was the second impossible thing I did that night. Both hands on her hips, not guiding, just holding on, watching her take what she wanted out of me in the dark. Her head went back. Her palms pressed down on my chest for leverage. She found the angle she wanted and made a small sound when she got it and then chased it, over and over, and I had never in my life been so completely at the mercy of anything.

She was so wet I could hear it. She was biting her lip. My jaw ached from holding my own noise in and I was going to lose that too and I didn't care.

"Look at me," I said.

She did. Even in the dark, she did.

"Du är min." It came out of me without permission, the way it always did. "Min. Say it."

"I'm yours."

"Again."

"I'm yours." Breaking now, rhythm going ragged, thighs shaking on either side of me. "Ryan—I'm⁠—"

"Come on my cock." I moved my hand between us and ran circles on her clit, and she made a sound that was going to bring the whole floor down and neither of us stopped. "Come on, solsken. Let me feel it."

She came apart on top of me with both hands flat against my chest, and I felt every part of it, and it took me straight over with her. I emptied into her with my hand locked on her hip and her name coming out of me in pieces, and something underneath it in Swedish that I did not choose and could not have translated.

“Ryan!” she cried out as she spasmed around me.

“Fuck yes, baby. Take all of it,” I roared as I thrust one, then two more times, completely empty.

She collapsed onto my chest. Neither of us moved for a long time.

The room came back slowly. The climate control. The seam of hallway light under the door. Her heartbeat going hard against my ribs and then slowing, and her breath damp at my throat, and my hand moving up and down her spine without any instruction from me at all.

"You're shaking," she said, into my neck.

"Yeah."

"Good."

I laughed. It came out as almost nothing. She lifted her head and I could feel her looking at me.

"Where did that come from," I asked, not complaining at all.

She was quiet a moment. When she answered, the pleased edge had gone out of her voice and it was just her.

"I've been thinking about it for a while." Her fingers moved on my chest. "I didn't know how to ask."

"You don’t have to ask for anything you want. You can have it all."

"I know that now." A breath. “I’m glad you liked it.”