I want to say that it’s big, but I can tell by his smug smile that he already knows it. I take him in my hand and stroke him. His skin is smooth and hot, and he’s so hard that just the thought of what he could do to me sends a pulse through my body and down between my legs.
“I like that,” he mumbles. He presses his face into my hair. I can feel his hot breath against my neck.
His hand trails down my hip until his fingers are poking under my waistband, but he pauses there. I take his hand and guide it a little farther until he moves the rest of the way down on his own, reaching that sensitive spot between my legs. His fingers curl in, and my body responds with a shudder. He does it again, and this time I gasp.
“Take this off,” he says, pulling at my shirt with his other hand.
I let go of him to pull my shirt off, but my action is delayed when he goes in deeper, making me cry out and cling to his shoulders involuntarily. I try again, but I’m forced to drop it when he does it again.
“I can’t take it off if you keep—” I bite his shoulder to keep myself from being too loud.
He releases me and pulls my shirt over my head, then pulls his own shirt off and drops them both to the floor. He lifts me up so that he’s holding me against the wall and my middle is pinned against his. I wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses a trail from my ear down my jaw, my neck, and down to my chest. He focuses his attention on my breasts for a minute, giving them each equal attention. My fingers are in his hair, and when he takes my nipple into his mouth, I squeeze, wrapping my legs around him tighter. He keeps going, his tongue moving over my nipple until I can barely hold on anymore. I’ve never been brought so close to an orgasm this way before. I didn’t know it was possible.
Unable to bear it any longer, I pull myself away from his mouth. He looks up at me with a primal look in his eyes.
“I need you,” I tell him. “Now.” In my head, I calculate the distance to the bedroom. It’s too far. “Take me to the couch.”
Keeping me wrapped around his waist, he carries me to the couch. When we get there, he lays me on my back, then pulls my pajama shorts down. My panties come off with them. When he sees me completely naked, he shudders out a breath.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks.
“Yes. Get over here.” I sit up and pull him down onto the couch with me.
He eases himself between my legs until I can feel his tip against my center. He doesn’t push into me right away. He holds it there for a moment, his lips against my neck, on my ear, trailing down my cheek to my mouth. His teeth pull at my lower lip.
I wrap my legs around his back, pulling him closer and trying to get him inside of me. He holds back, and I think I might go crazy from how close we are.
“Please,” I whisper against his ear. He inches in just enough to make me beg. “More.”
He takes his time, and with each new inch he gives me, I’m pushed closer to an edge I’ve never been on before. No one has ever teased me quite the way he does. By the time he’s snugly inside of me, I’m already halfway there. My fingers tighten on his shoulders, feeling his muscle as he rocks against me.
He buries his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin. When he makes love to me, it doesn’t feel like it’s the first time. He moves like he knows exactly what I like. I’m not sure I even know what I like until we’re there, and he’s diving into me, taking me higher and higher until I can’t hold on anymore. He doesn’t stop when I reach my climax. With each rock of his hips against mine, he takes me to a whole new level I’ve never felt before. I lose all control, and I still can’t get enough. My arms tighten around his shoulders, my legs pulling him closer as my body pulsates around his. I cry out, not caring anymore that my neighbors might be able to hear me. The only thing that matters in this moment is him, and how good this feels, and how I could live in this moment right now for the rest of my life.
Just as the sensation begins to taper off, he locks his lips with mine and presses deeper into me, sending one last surge of pleasure through my body.
We lie there for a moment, his weight on top of me, my legs still wrapped around his back. Both of us breathe heavily, unwinding slowly. He separates himself from me, then angles his body so that he’s between me and the edge of the couch.
Once I’ve recovered a bit, I sigh, but it comes out as more of a laugh. He smiles, amused by my reaction.
“That was good,” I tell him, not caring that I’m fueling his ego. “So fucking good.”
We watch each other for a moment. Even in the dim light of the living room, the blue of his eyes is piercing. I don’t think I could get tired of looking into those eyes.
My eyes wander past him to the coffee table where I left the bouquet of flowers. Just as I’m wondering if he noticed them, he follows my gaze over his shoulder and looks at them. I wait for him to ask me who they’re from, but he doesn’t.
“Sorry if I woke you up,” he says, turning his attention back to me.
“I’m not complaining. Though I have to say that you didn’t seem like you were sorry a minute ago.”
He shakes his head. “You caught me. Guess I’m not that sorry.”
“I do need to go back to bed, though. Feel free to hang around if you don’t mind watching me sleep.”
“Do you have a chair that I can sit in at the foot of your bed?”
I snort out a laugh. “I do, but I’d prefer if you watched me from the other pillow. It’s a little less creepy that way.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I’m not done with you just yet.”
