Page 56 of The Plus One Pact

I squeeze a little lube onto it. Onto him.

He groans as my hand glides over his tip. I spread the gel over him then I get into position, straddling him.

Slowly, I bring my body onto his.

His tip brushes against me.

Then it's that sweet, sweet sensation of our bodies connecting. It's intense. Almost too intense.

Then it's just right.

It's in his eyes. That hazy, lost look. Like he's not sure where he is, but he knows he likes it.

Because he's not used to this dynamic.

Or maybe because he's perfected this response.

The artifice is still there. A part of me wants to stop everything and demand authenticity. But another part doesn’t care. And not just because I need a story for our next episode. Not just because I can turn this into a series. Doctor O Gets Her Groove Back—with a Pro.

Because I want to feel him against me. Because, even if he is playing this up, he is here. We’re here, together, in this moment.

Okay, sure, if I’m actively thinking about how we’re here, together, in this moment, I’m in my head a little too much. But I’m making progress. I’m getting there.

I bring my hands to his shoulders and use them for leverage as I ride him again and again.

Taking him deeper, shifting my hips, trying different speeds and pressures and sensations.

Until it's just right.

I stay like that, as my orgasm builds. It feels good, but I need more. So, I bring my hand to my clit, and I rub myself as I ride him.

The pleasure comes quickly. All that tension rides and releases. The world turns white. Nothing but pure, blinding light.

And, still, he lets me lead.

I continue my motions, looking down at him as I go. Until it's too intense, and I have to close my eyes again.

Until I stroke myself to orgasm again.

This time, when I blink my eyes open, I look down at him with purpose and drive. This time, I know exactly what I want.

"I want to feel you come too," I breathe.

He flips me onto my back.

I wrap my legs around his hips.

He thrusts into me, slowly at first, then a little faster.

My hands find his back.

His body moves with mine. His breath changes. His posture too.

There's something different about him. Something more honest. More real.

This time, I'm sure he's where he needs to be. Maybe he's not lost in me. Maybe he's not feeling the emotional connection I am.

But he's feeling really fucking good.