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My gaze drops to the fabric stretched tight over his cock. “Stay there.”

Eric does. I close my book and place it on the nightstand, then slide my sleep shorts and underwear down my legs and let them fall beside the bed. His eyes follow every move as I settle against the pillows and slowly part my knees.

“I want you to watch.”

I slip my hand between my legs and circle my clit. I let myself moan, louder than I need to, because I know what it does to him. His jaw tightens, and his cock strains against the black fabric.

“Touch yourself,” I say.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then he hooks his thumbs beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down. His cock springs free as he steps out of them, his gaze never leaving mine.

His hand closes around himself. At first, each stroke is slow and controlled. Then I press harder and let another moan slip out. His fist begins to move faster. His breathing turns rough as he watches my fingers, fighting to stay where I put him.

“I could do that better,” he says.

“I know.”

His hand stills around his cock. “Then let me.”

“Not yet.” I keep circling my clit, holding his gaze. “You’ll touch me when I say you can. Until then, keep your hand moving and your eyes on me.”

For once, Eric doesn’t argue. His fist begins to move again. He stays quiet, his gaze fixed between my legs. His strokes quicken, the muscles in his stomach tightening as his control begins to slip. I keep circling my clit, but I’m far more interested in the strain on his face and the way his cock slides through his fist.

Seeing what I’m doing to him sends the pleasure higher. When my thighs begin to tremble, I lift my fingers away. Eric stops at once, even though I never told him to.

“Come here.”

He reaches the bed in two steps. One knee lands on the mattress, and then his hands are around my face and his mouth is on mine.

He lowers me onto the pillows and follows, settling between my legs without letting me go. Every time I turn my head to breathe, his mouth finds mine again. His cock presses hard against my stomach, but he makes no move to rush what comes next.

“I really did miss you last night,” he says against my mouth.

I reach into the nightstand and press a condom into his hand. Eric tears open the packet and rolls it on, then settles between my legs. He slips one arm beneath my knee and lifts it toward his hip, spreading me wider. With his other hand, he guides himself to me and pushes inside in one slow, deep stroke.

I gasp and hold on to his shoulders. I was already close from watching him, and the feeling of him filling me sends pleasure through my whole body.

Eric keeps one arm beneath my hips, holding me close while he moves. Whenever our bodies start to shift apart, he pulls me back against him, finding my mouth between rough breaths.

He lifts me into his next thrust. The new angle takes him deeper, while the hard press of his pelvis rubs over my clit.

“Right there,” I breathe.

He does it again. After that, he doesn’t change a thing. Every thrust reaches the same spot, and every roll of his hips gives me the pressure I need.

The pleasure gathers until it becomes too much to hold. I come with my mouth against his, my thighs tightening as my body closes around his cock in hard pulses. My moan breaks into our kiss.

The first contraction catches his breath. The second knocks him out of rhythm.

His next thrust is harder. The one after it is uneven. He keeps his mouth against mine, but neither of us can manage a real kiss through our breathing.

My body grips him again.

Eric says my name, low and rough, then pushes deep and holds me there. His cock pulses inside me as every muscle in his back tightens beneath my hands.

He stays wrapped around me afterward, my cheek resting against his chest. His heart pounds beneath my ear. After a moment, he lifts my face and kisses me again, softer now, until his breathing begins to slow.

His lips brush mine once more. He exhales, and the words leave him with the breath.