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Sudden clarity hits me.
“Wait!” I scream and jump off the counter. He seems perplexed as I run into my room and go for the top drawer of my nightstand.
I bring out an unopened box of condoms, and he grabs them, a chuckle erupting from him. “That’s very sweet, Honey, but regular won’t work.”
I frown. “I once saw a video of a guy stretching a condom over his leg. They’re stretchy and—”
“Honey.” My name on his lips brings me back to the room, and my chest swells with lo—
No. It can’t be love.Admiration, maybe.
It’s something, though, because I feel safe and not embarrassed around Dawson.
He pulls out his own condom and holds it in the air pointedly as he lifts me up and places me back on the counter. His fingers trail down the remains of the honey on my stomach and flick off at my clit. “Now, where were we.”
In what seems like seconds, all of his clothes are piled on the floor, and he efficiently applies his condom. He reaches for me, but I stop him.
I take a moment to admire not only all the defined muscles I expected under his shirt but also the unexpected tattoo across his chest. A crown marks the top, and roses are twined into a word I can’t properly read. The tattoo is old, almost clumsily done, and yet beautiful. It’s unlike anything I expected of the clean-cut Dawson that he presents daily.
He catches his breath as he watches me, and then my gaze drops to the tattoo of my lips next to his very hard cock.
My mouth hangs open.Fuck me, he is huge.I almost forgot.
“I’ll send you a photo later, honeypot.” He smirks and I’m suddenly back in the moment when he reachesfor me. Dawson lifts me so my legs wrap around his waist, and then he walks us to the window that looks over the streets beneath and slams my back into it.
At first, I’m speechless. That is until I feel him at my entrance. He pauses when only the tip of his cock enters me, his gaze solely on me. I’m trying to look down between us, but I can’t see anything because our bodies are locked tight.
“Honey.”
“Hm…” My eyes find him.
“Watch me.” I nod submissively as he lowers me, and his eyes somehow darken as he ever so slowly fills me. It doesn’t hurt as much as the first time, but there is still a small stinging sensation when he enters me. Once he’s fully inside, he pauses again, licks his lips, and leans forward. His mouth claims mine, and I feel the stickiness of the honey still on my chest spread between us. He doesn’t seem to care, though, and I tighten my hold around his neck as I feel the urge to move up and down. I do it without waiting for him, and as soon as I do, our kiss stops, and our lips rest against each other. Breath for breath. Our focus is on the sensation of me gliding up and down his cock.
“Fuck,” he utters against my lips, which fuels me with more power and confidence to keep on moving while he squeezes my ass. It feels good. So fucking good that I never want it to end.
Soon enough, he adjusts himself, complementing my rhythm as he slides inand out of me. My fingers feather over his strong arms, the muscles bunching from holding me.
And fuck me, it’s hot.
I love this.
Him.
Us.
I never want it to end.
I feel powerful.
Like I have full control of this man right now.
My nails dig into his shoulders as we move faster. His mouth is eager to find mine again, and this time, he bites my bottom lip as we continue to fuck.
My clit is being rubbed with each movement, and I can honestly say I understand why people become addicted to sex.
It’s exhilarating.
The buildup comes again. Dawson doesn’t slow, and it comes even faster and harder. And soon my mouth forgets to move, but his doesn’t as he continues to kiss me. Who knew the second time I had sex, I could come twice? Tears well in my eyes, and one spills over my cheek.
