He lets out a breathy laugh. “I asked if you’re okay. I know that got kind of...intense, and I—”
“Zach.” I make a growly sound. “I am not going to be okay if you don’t get your cock out right now.”
“Understood.” He gives my hips a squeeze. “Be right back.”
I hear him digging around in my room for a condom as I pull my shorts and thong all the way off. I toss my hoodie to the floor before getting back into position. I’m lying on my stomach, knees spread wide and ass lifted in a ‘come fuck me now’ pose when I hear him walk back in the room. He stops a few feet away from the couch, and I look back over my shoulder.
“What is it?”
His face has gone slack, and he’s staring at my ass with half-closed eyes.
“It’s official,” he says in a hoarse voice. “I’m the luckiest damn man in the world.”
“Not yet,” I joke, getting a little cocky as I watch him watch me, “but you will be once you’ve got your dick inside me.”
He groans and starts pulling his clothes off. I watch the muscles of his chest stretch and flex as he tugs his shirt over his head. He’s just the right amount of built—not ripped like guys in movies or gym selfies on Instagram. I know that’s some people’s type, and they’re welcome to have it, but I love looking at Zach and being turned on by howrealhe is. He has freckles on his back, a birthmark on his leg, and a small patch of chest hair I think he’s secretly very proud of growing. He has so many details I want to know and memorize. He’s a picture I want to take with me everywhere I go.
He’s also very hard for me.
I lick my lips as he slides the condom on and don’t take my eyes off his face as he settles himself behind me and starts running the tip of his cock up and down between my legs. I’m so worked up that every stroke over my clit gets me closer and closer to coming.
We both moan when he finally slides all the way in, as deep as he can go. This angle is so tight, and I arch my back at the way he fills me.
I need him to move.
“Please. More.”
I start thrusting against him, and he takes the hint. Soon we’re moving to the same rhythm, faster and faster like it’s the only thing keeping us alive. One of his hands digs into my hipbone to hold me close while the other reaches around me to start stroking my clit.
I see stars. I close my eyes, and colours and shapes burst into view behind my eyelids. Something is tightening in me, tensing as I get closer to my breaking point.
He feels so good inside me, hitting just the right spot over and over again. My whole body is jerking in time with the circles he draws on my clit, and I’m close. So close.
In the end, it’s the sound of my name on his lips that sends me over the edge. That’s always what makes me fall apart when I’m with him like this. It doesn’t matter how hard we’re going or how bossy he’s being or how rough things get; when he says my name, he says it like it’s the most beautiful word in the world. He says my name like it’s a poem, something worth remembering and writing down, something that deserves to last forever.
I shiver as he wraps me in his arms.
* * *
Zach spends the night,and I wake up a few minutes before him in the morning. There’s just a tiny bit of light coming through the gap under my curtain, and I let my eyes roam over the shadowy outline of his face.
He’s snoring a little, his mouth hanging wide open as he lays on his back, and it makes me smile. I know he hates hearing it, but he really does look like a farm boy. He looks like he passed out on a hay bale while watching the cows come home. It’s pretty adorable.
I scooch in closer to him, and his eyes flutter open.
“Oh, hey.” He matches my smile when he turns to look at me. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, sexy man.”
He moves onto his side and puts his arm around me, pulling me closer. This isn’t our first morning together, but waking up beside him makes me feel the same mix of nervousness and excitement I did when I opened my eyes and found him in my bed for the first time.
There is something intimate about being the very first thing someone sees when they wake up, no matter how casual the sex is—and our sex has never been casual.
Nothing casual about thinking you’re falling in love.
I laid awake for a long time last night thinking about that word. I’ve said it to a lot of guys. I always thought it was simpler than everybody makes it out to be, that love was an easy choice people were always trying to overcomplicate when really all they needed to do was choose it. That’s what I’d tell them as I poured them one more shot for the road.
I stared up at the ceiling at 2AM last night and wondered if maybe I had given everyone the wrong advice—because love is not simple. Not at all.
