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I’m a puddle of happiness when he joins me on the bed. He locks his arm around me, yanking me close, then rolling me under him. I smile up at him, tangling my fingers in his hair.
The words almost slip out, but I don’t let them.
Just in case he doesn’t know he loves me yet. I don’t want to be the first one to say it.
He’s so handsome in the moonlight. He’s handsome in any light, but I want to remember this moment forever.
His mouth claims mine, greedy and aggressive, then he spreads my thighs, making room for himself between them.
I know I should make him use a condom, but he doesn’t. He hasn’t all day long.
I savor the sensation of him pushing into me bare, then his mouth is on my jaw and he’s leaving kisses rough enough to bruise everywhere he can reach.
This time, after he fills me with his cum, he doesn’t leave me. He stays between my legs, his cock still in my body, the bulk of his weight on top of me.
I love it.
I’ve lost track of how many orgasms I’ve had today, so my body is completely relaxed. I enjoy having his head resting against my breast and absently run my fingers through his dark hair.
“You make it so fucking hard to leave you,” he rumbles.
I crack a smile. “You don’t have to. I like having you inside me.” Seeing an opportunity—or I guess the duty, because I’m not thrilled about it either—to bring it up, I gently tug on his hair to pull his head back and urge him to look up at me. “We do need to go back to using condoms, though. I can get on birth control, but I’m not on any right now, and I don’t think either of us wants an accidental pregnancy to deal with.”
“No?” he asks, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
I have no capacity for severity right now, but I roll my eyes playfully, a smile still tugging at my lips. “No. I’m a sophomore in college. It’s most assuredly not an optimal time for me to get pregnant.”
“I’m a senior. Timing seems a little more optimal to me.”
I shake my head, taking it as a joke anyway because what he’s saying is crazy, and obviously he doesn’t really want to have a baby with me.
Not now, at least.
“Should we name the baby something French since we know it was conceived here?” he asks casually.
My eyes widen. “That’s not funny.”
He smirks up at me. “It wasn’t meant to be. Paris is probably too on the nose, but we’ll think of something.”
“No. We are not naming our fictional baby. And we need to stop talking about it. I don’t want to keep putting this out into the universe.”
“Might not be the worst thing.”
He really is crazy. I guess I realized that when he burned down a frat house, but he’s certainly reminding me right now.
Unfortunately—or fortunately?—I’ve already decided I love him, so I don’t care.
“Why would you want to get me pregnant anyway?” I ask idly, resuming playing with his hair.
He shrugs. “It’s something permanent. Something between us that couldn’t be undone.”
He sounds serious. “I mean, it can be,” I point out gently.
He shakes his head. “No. Whether you kept it or not, it would be a thing that happened. A part of me that lived in you for a while.”
My brow furrows, and I caress the back of his head. He sounds almost… sad.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
