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His other hand was elsewhere, opening a drawer, I imagined, to fish out a condom. But what he slammed down on the counter beside my hip was a bottle of lube.
“I want every inch of you, baby,” he explained, breath warm in my ear, making my body do a small shiver. “I want to own every hole.” He paused as a thrill went through me. “If that’s not…” he started, giving me an out that I didn’t need, but appreciated anyway.
“I want that too,” I told him, watching the mirror as his eyes slid up and pinned mine.
His hand moved down again, slipping between my legs to tease my clit again, drive me upward again. Then I lost his fingers again as I heard the snap of the lube cap open and felt the cool, slippery contents slide down my ass. The bottle went back to the counter and his hand rose to my ass, squeezing one cheek for a second before his fingers moved inward, his thumb working the lube where it needed to be and started to gently press inside. My head fell back on his chest on a sigh as his thumb penetrated and started thrusting lazily, preparing me for a long couple of minutes as chaos started to brew between my thighs, making me press them together to try to calm the need to come.
His free hand moved up my spine, pressing me forward. My hands slapped down on the sink counter and his hand went to my hip as I lost his thumb and felt his cock slide between my folds, teasing me, pressing against my clit for a second before sliding backward toward my ass, wasting no time in starting to penetrate. He pressed inward slowly, giving my body time to adjust, as his hand moved from my hip and slid between my thighs to start working my clit again.
He buried to the root on a curse as he grabbed my hip and started slowly, almost gently, thrusting inside me. It wasn’t long before I needed more, before I needed it like he usually gave it to me- hard, demanding, needy. My hips started slamming backward faster, harder, showing him what I wanted, but I told him anyway. “Harder,” I demanded and, on an approving growl, he gave me what I needed. His thumb stayed on my clit as his fingers slid down and inside me again, curling, working over my G-spot until I was completely mindless with sensations. Until all there was in the entire world was him and me, his hands on me, in me, his cock inside me, our ragged breathing, my moans, his hisses and curses.
I pushed back as he thrust forward, his thumb pressing into my clit, his fingers raking over my G-spot, and the little world we created exploded through my system as I cried out his name, a triple zone orgasm making my legs go weak. Shane’s reflexes were quick, arm going around my belly and hauling me up against his chest as I shook through the waves, my head back on his shoulder, my face turned into his neck. I was vaguely aware of him jerking upward once, his body spasming as he came.
Then, there was nothing, just stillness as we both tried to steady our breathing, as I simultaneously tried to come back to reality, but also stay in the perfect little dreamworld we had created.
“Fucking perfect,” Shane’s voice said, low, practically quiet, as his face rubbed against my hair.
“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, smiling a little dreamily, eyes still closed.
“That, yeah,” he agreed, arm squeezing my belly. “But I didn’t mean that. I meant you.”
My eyes opened at that, finding his reflected in the mirror, maybe an insecure part of me expecting to see teasing there. All I saw was sincerity.
“Barely know each other,” he went on, obviously in a sharing mood, “but you get me. Was in a shit mood. Most women would give me space or nag me about how I was feeling. You knew better.”
“Sex is a cure-all,” I said with a hesitant little smile, not liking that I was lessening what I had just felt with him.
I saw a flash of disappointment cross his face at the words too. “It wasn’t that and you know it. I think we’ve both done enough fucking to know when all it is is that. This wasn’t that. This was connection.”
Because I agreed, but was too chicken shit to admit it, I stayed silent, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw instead, always finding physical affection easier. “You get me too,” I admitted, wanting him to know that I noticed, that it mattered.
“Bat shit crazy in all the right ways,” he agreed, teasing me because I think we both were getting uncomfortable with the heaviness of that moment.
