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“And if I want to?” I lift my hands to wrap around the back of his neck.
He shivers under my touch.
“Then I’ll see you every time until you tell me no, but I don’t expect sex, and I don’t expect you to shackle yourself to someone who can’t give you half the things he wants to.”
Even in my limited experience, men who don’t ask for commitment are not offering it. Ihad expected nothing less, not when we won’t attempt a long-distance relationship, or label this pull between us, but it still stings to think that he doesn’t want to ask me for more.
“Do I still get to have you today?” I ask because, self-preservation or not, I ache for him.
“Yes,” his voice is hoarse, and I wait for him to say something, anything, else, but he ends the conversation by sucking my nipple into the hot, wet depth of his mouth.
I arch my back, pressing my breasts closer to his lips and teeth and tongue. Each pull on the aching tip sends a tug down deep in my underwear. Erik switches his attention to my other breast, his hand taking over as he rolls my nipple between his blunt fingers. He surges forward and I step back to avoid falling on my butt—because that would be sexy—and then his hands are biting into my hips as he turns us both and pushes me flat on the bed.
There are very few men in the world that can make me feel small, dainty, but Erik looms over me, blocking out the overhead light. He looks so serious, pupils swallowing the hazel of his irises, mouth pressed into a firm line, but his hands shake as he slides them up my body. He kisses me, devouring me as he presses me deep into the plush blankets. Down, down, down until I can’t tell where the bed ends and Erik and I begin.
His lips move over my chin and down my throat, nipping that same spot as before, and my legs shake. He kisses down my front, leaving a soft peck to the tip of each breast, then down over my tummy. Even lying flat, my stomach isn’t flat, but Erik just swirls his tongue into my belly button and continues down to the waistband of my underwear.
I shimmy further up the bed and Erik uses his palms to push my knees wide. The air in my room is cool as it feathers across the damp cotton of my underwear. I shiver, goosebumps blossoming along my arms and legs. I catch sight of the wicked grin that crosses Erik’s wide lips, and then he pulls the dark, wet fabric to the side and drops his mouth to where I ache the most.
I had almost forgotten how well he does this, lapping at my pussy with the flat of his tongue. He sucks my lips into his mouth, probes my entrance with his tongue, and nibbles on the sensitive bud of my clit. I’m sweating and panting, my thighs quivering as the tension inside me builds faster than I thought possible. He’s only been here—with me—once before, but he must have taken notes. By the time he presses two of his thick fingers to my entrance and buries them deep, curving them to find that elusive spot that will send me spiraling into oblivion, there is nothing left on my mind except the pleasure he is wringing from my body.
My pussy clamps down on his fingers, holding them deep as I splinter outward. Each time I start to come down, my body loosening by degrees, he twists those digits and sends me flying again and again. When he finally pulls back, seconds or decades later, I can barely keep my eyes open. My limbs are heavy, weighed down with satisfaction.
Erik chuckles as he looks down at me, the sound rich like melted chocolate as it spreads across my senses.
“You okay?” He asks, and I try to nod.
His chin and mouth are shiny and wet, his eyes bright and glassy. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips, and he grins. He’s proud of himself, happy that we’re in this together, and I find the strength to push up on my elbows and reach for the waistband on his pants. He’d never re-fastened the button and they sag low on his slim hips. The head of his cock is visible over the waistband of his underwear and it twitches as my fingers brush his bare skin.
“I want these off.” I tug at the denim.
He covers my hands with his, twisting our fingers together as his muscles lock down.
“Wait,” His voice wavers enough that I shake off my lust stupor to look up at him. “I, uh, kept my pants on last time we did this. I can do that again if you’re worried about my prosthetic.”
I frown. Why would I care about his leg? I’m way more interested in his dick. Or his hands. Or his mouth.
“Some people find it off-putting, especially if I remove it.”
“Are you uncomfortable?” I search his eyes for his honest answer. “It’s your leg. I don’t care if you have no legs, two legs, or twenty. I like you. I’m attracted to you. I’m hoping to have sex with you.”
“What if I only have nineteen legs?”
“Oh, well, that would change everything.” I smile as I push the denim down over his hips to bunch at the tops of his thighs. “Do whatever you are comfortable with. Pants on or off. Leg on or off. Light on or off. I want you inside me in about twenty-five seconds. Got it?”
Erik pushes his pants the rest of the way down and steps out of them. He kicks them to the side to join the rest of our clothes and my gaze drops to the dark black socket covering his left knee. I recognize the metal ankle joint and the flesh-colored foot before his boxer briefs follow his pants and his erection slaps up against the taut skin of his abdomen. I’m not looking anywhere else now.
I stretch along my mattress, fingers scrabbling against the drawer of my nightstand. Erik opens it for me, pulling out the box of condoms. He drops it on the bed next to my head and I rip it open, spilling the foil packets all over my body and the blankets. I laugh, a desperate choked sound, as Erik scoops one up and tears it open. He has one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking from root to tip, and he uses his teeth to rip the package. Am I drooling? Probably, but my nerves are too shot to care.
He drops to the edge of the bed, sitting so his hip presses into my arm, and strokes himself once, twice more, before pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it down to the base of his erection. He pats his thighs, smiling down at me. His eyes are burning me alive. I push myself up and over him until I’m straddling his thighs. He fists his hands in the elastic over my hips, mutters a quick apology, and then tears my underwear right off my body, letting the pieces flutter to the ground.
“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He pulls me closer until my breasts rub against the soft hair on his chest. It tickles.
“You can ruin all my underwear.” My words end on a moan as he lines the head of his dick up with my entrance and pushes down on my thighs so I can take him deep.
He rocks his hips up into me and I pitch forward, curving my body into his chest. Erik bands his arms around my back and I grind my hips against his, rubbing my clit against his pubic bone. He is impossibly thick and impossibly hard inside me. I’m stretched beyond comprehension. Unsure of the best way to move, but unable to stay still. I push up on my knees and snap my hips forward, then let them rock back as I sink down over him again. He meets me with an upward thrust of his own, hitting that spot inside me that his fingers found with no problem.
“You’re fucking stunning, Quinn Cooper. Inside and out.” His words hover over me as our bodies slap together again and again. Flutters start in my abdomen, picking up speed and strength and he drops a hand to rub over the spot where we’re joined. “I’ve been dreaming of you since the first time I saw you. I’m not going to last here, baby. I need you to come with me.”
