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I smirk in response and his brow furrows.
“That’s what I’m hoping for. Be a good boy and make me come hard, yeah?” I grin, watching his face as it turns to surprise and then determination.
I undo the belt as quickly as I can, and when it finally drops, he grabs me. His broad hands wrap around my back andmy thighs and he pins me to the mattress beneath him. I spread my legs wider, and he takes the invitation and slides inside me, his cock so fucking big that I gasp a little when I feel him all the way in. I don’t know how my virgin self handled this because my experienced self needs a moment to adjust. I guess it all just hurt, and I didn’t realize it might have hurt a little less if I’d been with someone more average in size. Not that I’d trade having him first for anyone else in the world.
“Fuck…” He groans as his eyes shutter. He stills inside me, and I get a moment to adjust to the way he fills me. My hands ghost down his sides, taking in all his skin and muscle. A moment later he comes back to me, his eyes opening—a new sort of determination in them, and he starts to fuck me deep and slow.
One of his hands wraps around my hair and pulls my head back, exposing my neck, and his tongue slides its way up my throat. A desperate whimper escapes me as he starts to fuck me harder, his fingers tightening their grip in my hair, and his lips and tongue working their way over my flesh. I forgot how good this can feel when you have a man who knows what he’s doing. A man who fucks like this. One who actually cares if you come.
“Fuck…” I mutter. “You’re so good, Quentin. So—fucking—good.”
“That’s my girl. Taking me so fucking well. The kind of cock you actually need, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I wrap my leg around his and raise my hips up to counter his strokes. “You get so deep. I hate you for making me think it would always be this good.”
“It is always this good.” He nips at my neck. “When you fuckme.”
“So vain,” I mutter, smiling despite myself.
“Just truth.” He kisses down my throat and starts to take me faster. “I know it because I’ve been just as desperate for you.”
I can’t think straight as he pushes me closer to the edge, mybreathing and his are the only things I can hear as he hits me perfectly with each stroke—a sort of white noise that bathes me in near bliss. The building wave of my orgasm has me matching him, and I’m crying out his name over and over as I beg for him. Too desperate to come to think about anything else.
“Fuck me, you feel so good. So fucking pretty the way you flush like this for me. Let me hear you come.”
“Quentin, please. Harder,” I plead one last time before I feel the crash of it through my whole body. Waves of it drag me under and make me almost see stars from how good it feels.
“That’s right. Come for me, Madness. Let me feel this cunt tighten around my cock. I’ve been waiting years for it.” He groans as he starts to come inside me, the feel of it pulling the last few waves of pleasure from my body, and I hate the loss of him when I finally feel the last stroke of his cock inside me.
He collapses next to me a moment later, his breathing as heavy as mine, and we both just lay there taking a moment. I’m senseless right now because all I can think is how I want him again. How I want him like this every single day. How much I’ve missed having him.
But that’s all too heavy right now, so I run my fingertips down his forearm, grinning up at him with the most playful smile I can muster. This is just sex. I can handle it—even with him.
“That was fun.” I break the quiet when his breathing slows.
“Fuck me, Madness. I might be what you remember, but you aren’t anything like you used to be.”
“I grew up.”
“I noticed.” He looks at me with something I can’t quite read before flashing me a bright grin that melts my heart.
A heart I can’t afford to be melting. I sit up on the edge of the bed, reaching for my clothes before I stand to go to the bathroom. I need to get cleaned up and get out of here. I can’tdo the post-fuck cuddling I want with him because the only way this works is if there’s a deep line drawn between the two versions of us. The one we can only have like this, and the one we have to be everywhere else. There’s no middle ground where I chase after him like a schoolgirl again. I have to be the grown-up. I need it to be clear for us because otherwise, we’ll both be in danger of losing everything. I refuse to let him, A.J., or anyone else I care about down like that.
“Leaving already?” he says it lightly, but I can tell there’s disappointment behind his tone.
“Work in a few hours. Demanding client. Need a couple of hours of sleep.” I shrug with a small smile as I close the door to the bathroom, thankful that he doesn’t argue with me about spending them here.
I lean against the sink as soon as I’m inside and stare at my reflection. I’m playing with fire by sleeping with him because there’s no way I won’t fall for him again. Not when he’s trying so hard to make me believe he can be the right guy. But he did this all once before, only to leave me stranded—broken in a way I never totally recovered from. My heart couldn’t take it again.
When I get backto the cottage, the sun’s already up, and I am nowhere near ready for the day. I need a shower, a nap, and then desperately some water and caffeine. I slip my sunglasses on and toss my bag over my shoulder for the short walk inside, only to come up short when I see my brother sitting on the small porch with two mugs of coffee.
“Morning, Mads.” His pale blue eyes slide to meet mine.
“Morning.”
“Imagine my surprise when I came over with some coffee to see if you wanted to walk the property with me, only to find out you were already up this morning. Early morning errand?”
“Yes. I had to… get something.”
