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“I don’t expect you to reciprocate. I just wanted to make you feel good.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. Is he rejecting me? Does he think that I don’t want him?
Also, where is this insecurity coming from? This isn’t like me.
“And I want you to feel good with me,” I retort, tugging at the elastic waistband of his pants.
“As long as you know you don’t have to.”
“I know. And I want to,” I whisper back, finally freeing him from his pants.
His dick is in my hand and I stroke it twice before he says, “Condoms are in the side table.”
I pump his erection again and he hisses at the added pressure from my grip. “I’m on birth control.”
His eyes widen for a second before his hand digs in to where he’s holding my wrist. I throw a leg over him and straddle his hips. “Is this okay?” I ask.
I don’t mind condoms, but I want to be closer to him. To feel him moving inside of me.
“Yeah. I just had a checkup last month, haven’t been with anyone but you. I’m good.”
I line him up with my entrance and slowly sink down on his length. Once my ass meets his thighs, I feel impossibly full. So full that I can barely breathe around the feeling of him inside me.
“Jesus,” I groan.
“Fucking hell, Jem. I need you to move,” he bites out, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he grinds out the demand through clenched teeth.
Shifting up, I pull almost all of the way off him before sinking down. His hands fly to my hips, helping me move on him until I find a rhythm. With every downward stroke, my clit grinds against his pubic bone until I feel the familiar tugging tension build in my stomach.
Boone reaches up and pulls at my nipple. The slight sting hurtles me closer to the edge, my internal muscles fluttering against his cock. Clenching my inner walls against the pressure climbing higher, I revel in his groan of pleasure as my reward.
“Jesus God. I’m going to come. Fill you up.” He grunts filthy declarations into the air between us. Moving faster, I ride his dick until my orgasm hits, my rhythm faltering.
But Boone’s hands are there, locked down on my hips, and I know that I’ll have tiny fingertip bruises later from the way he moves me through my orgasm on him.
Eyes half-closed, I watch as his orgasm hits him and he comes on a grumbly growl. The sound of his pleasure hits me right on the clit, and I pulse around him while he empties himself inside of me.
Out of breath, I slump against his chest. My legs are shaking and my arms are dead between us, but I don’t want to move. I don’t want him to pull out and us to lose the intimate connection that we have. I press a kiss to his pec before laying my head back down on him.
“That was amazing,” he murmurs quietly, running his hands down my arms and back, like he can’t get enough of the feel of me under his hands.
I nod. “I know,” I say with a smile, cocky at rocking his world. Just like I promised.
Boone softens enough that he slips out of me, but I don’t move. I know that I need to clean up, but I want a few more seconds of this before I break away to shower and get ready for the day.
“We should probably talk,” Boone says. The declaration lands between us like a hammer. My heartbeat speeds up, and nervous anxiety makes my hands tremble as I push up from his chest and roll over to lie next to him.
“Yeah, we probably should. But…” I trail off, unsure if I’m putting off the inevitable for myself or for him.
“But?” he asks.
“Can it wait until we get back to Felt? Show me your town this weekend. Show me what home is to you.”
He stares at me for a few minutes before nodding. “Okay. It can wait. We’ll talk about everything when we get back to Felt.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s never referred to Felt as home, and it’s just one more nail in the coffin that means he’s leaving, even if all I want is him to stay with me.
15
