My nose burns, my own emotions shifting as I really understand the magnitude of this, and I wonder if it should be me. If I’m the person he should choose to trust. To want.
I’m a breath from letting go, doubt already loosening my grip, when his hand wraps around mine. “Don’t stop.” His voice is rough, like gravel and broken glass. He squeezes tighter, guiding me up and down a few times, another exaggerated inhale taking my own breath. “Fuck.” He grips my other hand, the one with the condom. Together, we slide it down his heavy shaft.
“Lie back,” I murmur, brushing my fingers over his jaw.
One side of his mouth lifts, a smirk breaking through the thick emotion hovering. “You want to ride me, baby?”
A huffed laugh fills the space between us. My head drops with embarrassment at being called out, but this…This feels natural, like the usual banter we share, not weighed down by the past. “Since the first time I saw you.”
“I figured that out when you ground your pussy on me in the locker room.”
It’s been two weeks, but it feels like a lifetime ago. Another chuckle tumbles from my lips, my head shaking. “Fair, but thisisn’t about me. It’s about you.”
His chest vibrates with a deep rumble. He wraps one hand around my throat, the other yanking me to him. “It’s always about you, Halfpint. No fucking exceptions. If it weren’t, none of this would be happening.”
I start to respond, but his lips on mine prevent anything else from being said. With little effort, he moves us until he’s half lying, half leaning against the headboard, and I’m straddling him. Lust and desire twist our tongues, emotions neither of us intend to say, guide our hands as we explore this new understanding.
I lick across his rough, unshaven jaw. Open-mouth kisses trace across his collarbone. I mark his chest with gentle bites.
My hips tilt back, his impressive girth pressing against my core. My right hand stays firmly over his heart, feeling the thunderous rhythm beneath my palm. The left reaches between us, gripping him as I lower myself down. My head falls back, and I breathe through my nose at how deep he is.
But I don’t move. Instead, I lean forward, pressing my mouth to his chest, continuing where I left off. My lips wrap around his nipple, making him groan when my tongue flicks the metal piercing. His skin pebbles beneath my fingers as I trace the ridges and valleys of his abs.
He tilts his head when I latch onto his neck. Deep vibrations rumble from his chest, tickling my skin.
I reach for his sculpted face, brushing my thumb along his defined cheekbone. “Are you okay?”
His fingers weave through my hair, gripping the strands tightly, pulling me toward him so that our foreheads touch. “I’m good, baby.”
“If it gets to be too much—”
He cuts me off with a snort. “Halfpint, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you are emasculating the fuck out of me. You wanted to ride me, so stop talking, stop with the foreplay and bounce on my dick.”
“But I—”
“Ride. Me. Now.” It comes out gritted and strained.
My brows leap to my forehead, but my surprise only lasts a second before being replaced with a lustful moan when his cock twitches inside me.
I sit up, plant my hands on his chest, and roll my hips. Our eyes stay locked as I alternate between grinding and bouncing. His jaw is tense and tight, the tendons in his neck straining with his pleasure and restraint.
“Play with your tits, baby,” he growls. “Give me a show.”
I lean back, putting my hands on his thighs. Looking between us, I watch him disappear inside me, filling me to the brim. His hands grip me tight, assisting my movements as I give him the most intimate of lap dances, taking him in a little faster with each pivot.
My eyes shift, needing to see him…to make sure he’s okay. Spasms tickle my core when I see his gaze firmly locked on where we are joined.
“Fuck, the way your pussy fits me is perfection,” he mumbles, removing one hand from my side and sliding it between us.
I drop my attention back down as he spreads his fingers, rubbing them where we are connected. His thumb presses against my pulsing clit, and I cry out as a jolt of fire explodes between my legs, making me work harder, move faster.
My muscles burn, thighs quivering as he continues to work my clit, pressing the jewel against it in the most perfect of ways. Breathing becomes difficult as I try to hold off a little longer, not ready for this to be over, spoiled by the torturous way he edges me to prolong the pleasure, then pushing me over the edge into the greatest freefall.
“God, you feel so good,” I whimper, bouncing hard, grinding faster despite my desire to make this go on forever. “I don’t want it to end, but…”
“Stop fighting it,” he demands. “Come. Squeeze me tight, baby.”
The world fractures, tilts, and erupts into blinding white light. It’s as if my spirit leaves my body, hovering between this plane and the next. A cataclysmic eruption melts my bones, turns my heart to ash, and rearranges every molecule of my being…to fit him.
