Page 49 of Hard to Get

He straightens his arms and rests his forehead against mine, his nose alongside mine. “I need to be inside you,” he says roughly.

“Do it. I want it, too.”

“Fuuuck.” He reaches down between us and guides himself into me, inch by inch, carefully. His jaw is rock hard, his eyes closed, and I lift up to him to take him deeper. All the way. “Oh yeah. Fuck, you feel good.” He holds himself still then slowly moves, out, in, again. “I can’t…”

“It’s okay. Fuck me.”

I’m still pulsing inside and his cock is sliding over sensitive nerve endings. With a long groan, he rises up and reaches for me, curving his hands around the back of my head, and then he’s thrusting harder, faster. Deeper. I cry out, it’s so good. He pounds into me, our bodies slapping together, guttural noises falling from his lips and mingling with my gasps, taking me with his entire body. I dig my fingers into his ribs and hold on as he rails the bejesus out of me.

I fucking love it.

He lets out a ragged groan, holding himself deep inside me, his body tight, his jaw locked. “Fuuuuck.” I hold on to him through his orgasm, loving the intensity, the wildness, the way he’s utterly consumed by it.

When he goes still, he shifts on top of me, his cock sliding out, and my pussy clenches. He shifts to the side and lays down, mostly on top of me, pausing to look at me and smile and we both breathe out a laugh. Then he lays his head on my breasts, his lungs labouring. I hook one leg around him and hold his head, breathing in the scent of his hair.

“Huuuuuh,” he exhales.

I smile.

“That was fast,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

“It was good. Amazing good. But you know, if you want to try again, I’d be okay with that.”

He chuckles. “Where’s that other condom?”

“Already?”

“No. I need a minute.” He pauses. “Or maybe not.”

“This is what it’s like being with a younger man, huh?”

He snorts a laugh. “Damn right.”

We’re both sweaty and a little sticky and after long, drowsy moments, he rolls off me. “Be right back.”

He walks to the bathroom and I unashamedly watch him because holy hell, the man is a work of art. His ass alone is prize-winning, and those thighs… my God.

When he returns, he watches me watching him, and smiles. Then he jumps onto the bed, nearly bouncing me off.

I squeal. “I guess you have your energy back.”

“Ready to roll.” He finds the condom, then yanks back the comforter. “This time into the bed.”

We do some awkward repositioning that makes us laugh and he pauses. “There’s your tattoo.” He peers at my ribs. “Embarrassingly, I have no idea what that is.”

I touch the ink. “It’s the golden ratio.” A short mathematical equation.

He lifts his eyes to my face. “Ooookay.”

I grin. “Two quantities are in the golden ratio if their ratio is the same as the ratio of their sum to the larger of the two quantities.”

He falls onto the bed face first. “Jesus.”

“It’s the perfect proportion. It balances addition and multiplication.”

“Is it the same as the Fibonacci sequence?”

I laugh delightedly. “No, but they are closely related. The sequence is a series of integers, while the golden ratio is an irrational number.”