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“Really?” He’s seriously not dated anyone the whole time I’ve known him? “Four years?”
“Really. But can we discuss that another time?” He screws his eyes shut, like he’s trying to hold on.
“Then yes, I’m fine with it. If we’re both clean. I am.”
“Me too.” And he’s off me, standing at the side of the bed, unzipping his jeans. “In that case, I don’t want to live another second without being inside you.”
Thank God. He’s as desperate for me as I am for him.
And he’s back on top of me again. The feeling of all of his bare skin against all of mine is a reason for being alive.
He fits perfectly between my legs.
I stroke his firm shoulders as his confident hands maneuver me exactly where he wants me. He loops one behind my knee and pulls my leg up around his waist. His other fingers find my clit as he presses himself against my entrance.
We both cry, “Oh God,” at the exact moment he finds his way inside.
As we catch our breath, he locks his eyes on mine and holds me there while he slowly slides deeper and deeper until I am full of him.
“Desperate,” he pants. “Desperate for you.”
His slow circles on my clit quicken as he pulls back and thrusts with increasing speed.
“I’m desperate for you too.” I grab his buttocks to hold him as tight against me as possible.
My caution long since blown to the wind now ceases to exist.
He drops his mouth to mine, our tongues grappling, our bodies rocking. My hands slide up his firm back and find a home on his shoulders.
I’ve climbed so high it can’t be possible to go any higher. But then he moves his mouth to my nipple and takes me a few steps further still until I can hold on no longer.
His thrusts get harder as I go over the edge, him falling right behind me, the waves washing us away on a sea of cries and groans and pants.
The crest carries me for longer than I knew possible before we collapse in a pile of heavy breathing, our hearts banging against each other.
“Holy shit,” he says, his face buried in the pillow next to my head.
I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him tight to me. “When I said I always knew you were quietly confident, I didn’t envisage you being this confident.”
He peels his slick chest off mine and tips us onto our sides. “When I know what I want, I’m very single-minded and goal-oriented.”
I chuckle as I push spikes of brown hair back off his damp forehead.
“I love it when you laugh,” he says and dots a kiss on the end of my nose.
“You make me laugh a lot.” No one has ever made me laugh as much as he does.
He drags a finger around the outline of my breast. “I don’t mean to rush things…”
“Because we haven’t already?” I look at him out of the corner of my eye with a smirk.
“Yeah, I guess we didn’t even make it out to dinner.” He draws a slow spiral, getting closer and closer to my nipple. “Well, since we’ve already rushed things, I guess there’s no harm in asking when I can see you again.”
He’s asking me out on our first date while he’s inside me. It probably should have been the other way around. But I would never have said yes if he’d asked me before. I know that. And he probably knows it too.
How we can date given the work situation, I have no idea. But just the knowledge he wants to see me is as exciting as what we just did.
“I’d need to consult my calendar,” I tell him.
