I call his name as my first orgasm hits. He holds me as waves of pleasure crash through me. I close my eyes for a moment, letting my body feel the force of my release.
"One more?" he asks, and god, it’s filthy hot to see the shine from my body reflected in the short stubble on his chin and jaw.
"Yes," I say, my breaths heavy. "But only if you fill me up."
His eyes close. "Hell yes. My mouth again? My fingers?"
"Your cock," I say, reaching for him. He obliges, peeling his boxer briefs down. I start to scoot down the bed, but he stops me. "I want to kiss you."
“Next time? Because I’m on the goddamn edge here, Jos.” I nod and he presses a sweet kiss to my forehead. "Watch me," he says against my temple.
My eyes are trained on his fingers as they brush over the sensitive skin of my mound. He dips his hand inside and a second, short wave flutters through me. His hand is wet with my arousal as he grips himself. He’s stroking idly, smiling at me. "Fuck, you feel good on me."
"You feel good in me," I say, my smile matching his. We both got tested last week, and I’m on the pill, so there’s no need for any barriers between us. "So don’t make me wait."
Before my sentence is finished, he’s pushing inside me, filling me up. Skin on skin—nothing has ever felt this good, and I know I’m not alone. Van mutters a curse and bites his lip. “This is everything, Jos. You areevery-fucking-thing.”
He’s braced above me, and I can’t lie: the view is pretty spectacular. His muscled arms hold him steady above me, and his hair is a curtain of golden waves. His body is lean and powerful. He’s in complete control, each muscle doing just what he wants it to, just what it needs to do to make me feel good. He dips down, grinding into me just as he presses a sweet kiss to my forehead. The dichotomy of this man is irresistible. He’s sweetand unbearably sexy. He’s brilliant and struggling. He’s relaxed and singularly focused.
And right now, that focus is on me.
"What are you thinking about, Jos?" he asks, pulling out slowly before pumping into me once again.
"You," I answer, unable to mask what I’m feeling. I’m laid so bare—literally and figuratively, that there’s nothing left to hide. My legs fall to the side as I give myself over to Van completely. "How nothing feels this good."
"Nothing," he agrees, his thrusts shallow, his breathing a little ragged. "Nothing and no one." The words fall from his lips, both a question and a statement. It shouldn’t, but the jealous edge to his words sends a thrill through me. It’s proof that my absence left him hollow, that I wasn’t alone in my loneliness.
Sure, there were bodies who warmed his bed, and mine wasn’t always cold, either, but this fire between us is something I’ve never felt before. I couldn’t replicate it, no matter what I tried.
And it seems like Van couldn’t, either.
His hand reaches between us, his thumb grazing my sensitive bud again. My cry of pleasure wins me a smile.
He lifts his thumb to his lips and sucks before returning it to my heat. His touch is incendiary. "That’s it, Jos," he praises. "Let them know how good it is, how much you need it."
The reminder that someone might be able to hear us should make me nervous, or at the very least, quiet. But it has the opposite effect. I’m insatiable as I arch my back and roll my hips, meeting him halfway.
I kiss his neck, his jaw, his lips. Our bodies are slick with sweat and the bed is probably banging into the cinder block walls of my dorm, but none of that matters. Nothing matters now but us.
"I’m gonna come, Jos. You want that? You want me to come inside you?"
My response is immediate. "Yes!" I cry out just as he releases into me. His hips pump and his breathing stutters. My nipples are sensitive as his chest moves against mine. It’s just enough friction to ignite another orgasm, this one shorter than the last, but no less powerful. Van feels it, too.
"Oh,fuck, Josie. Fuck, that’s good." We ride out the waves together, our bodies lost in a rhythm we started years ago—one that I’ll never tire of. His lips brush my temple as I cling to him, needing our connection as long as I can hang on to it.
Van senses it, too, because he rolls us so that I’m on top of him in a sweaty sticky heap. Our positions have changed, but our bond hasn’t broken.
I look down at him. The words are on the edge of my lips. I want to say them so badly, but this isn’t the time, is it? And what if he doesn’t?—
Van’s voice cuts through the silence, soft and sure. "I love you, Jos."
The air around us stills. His eyes find mine and there’s a question in them, so I answer it. "I love you. I’ve loved you all this time."
His mouth covers mine and I absently wonder if the people in the hallway have moved on. If they haven’t, they’re about to hear another show.
31
Van
