I pull away instantly. “Shit. I’m sorry. Are you… Are you okay?”
He nods, resting his forehead against mine. “Just a bit tender, is all.”
I pull away, tipping his chin up so I can get a better look at him. He looks good because he always looks good, but he also definitely looks like he took a puck to the face. His cheek is swollen, though not as badly as I thought it would be, and his eye too. There’s a nasty cut where his skin split open on impact, and I’m instantly reminded of all the blood they had to scrape off the ice. It makes my stomach turn. This time, it’s not even because of my blood aversion. It’s because I didn’t like seeing him hurt.
Pushing up on my tiptoes, I lean forward and press my lips to his jaw, and his fingertips press into my hips where he’s holding on to me. I kiss higher, then again. Each time, his grip tightens, like he’s barely holding himself back. When I’m near the cut on his cheekbone, a low grumble starts in his chest, so strong I can feel it rattle against me, and when I finally press my lips to the gash, it’s his undoing.
He grabs my ass and hauls me into his arms, pressing my back against the wall as he kisses me hungrily. His lips are rough against my own, his kiss nearly bruising, but I don’t care. I want it. I welcome it. My hands crash through his hair, holding him closer as he continues to devour me. His tongue sweeps against mine, each stroke feeling like a promise of what’s to come.
I gasp when he releases me, only for him to move his lips to my neck. He sucks and bites at me, chasing each nibble with a gentle lick. It’s pure torture, my hips rocking against him, needing any sort of relief I can find. What I find isn’t enough, and I claw at him, needing more.
He understands my request, pulling back just enough to slip his hand between us to unbuckle his pants. The clinking metal is such a delightful sound, especially with his lips still on me. Then his hand is on me, pulling my panties to the side and slipping through my wetness.
“Fucking hell,” he practically growls. “You’re soaked. Absolutely fucking drenched for me.”
“All for you,” I agree, biting my lips when I feel his hot, hard cock against me. “More.”
“I need a condom,” he says against my lips.
“No time. I need to feel you inside me now.”
He pulls back slightly to look me in the eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I had an IUD put in to help with painful periods two years ago, and I haven’t been with anyone since…” But I don’t need to say it. I haven’t been with anyone since him.
“Me either,” he says, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear him say it, but I did.
“Then do it. Fuck me bare, Gavin. I need this. I needyou.”
One minute I’m begging him, and the next he’s buried inside me. We groan as he fills me, then again as he pulls out until just the tip is inside me and pushes in again. Over and over, hard and fast. His hips are jerky and untrained, but I don’t care. I’m too damn desperate for this to give a damn.
I drag my hands through his salt-and-pepper hair, then over his back, my nails digging into his flesh as his hands do the same to my hips. He presses kisses everywhere he can as he drives into me.
“I missed this,” he says, his lips now on my chin. “Missed the way this pretty little cunt feels wrapped around me.” Kiss. “Missed it milking my cock like it is.” Another kiss. “Fucking missedyou, Nessa.”
I missed you, too.But I don’t say it out loud. It makes it all feel too damn real. Instead, I let him use me however he likes, taking everything he’s willing to give and already wanting there to be a next time. I sound addicted, and maybe I already am.
That’s a problem for my future self, though. Right now, I just want to bask in this. In his touch. The way his stubble feels as he drags it over me. How good his cock feels inside me.
“I don’t think I can last much longer, love,” he warns.
And it’s that one word that does it for me.
Love.
My orgasm slams into me, and suddenly, everything that was so blurry before snaps back into focus. It’s like the last few months of heartache never happened. Gavin heals me with his touch. With his kisses. With his cock.
With a few more thrusts, he groans into my ear, and I feel his cum shoot into me. It’s so damn hot that I’m nearly ready to explode again. His movements slow, and so do his kisses as we both try to collect our breath. He pulls out of me, and I groan at the loss. He laughs darkly—the sound way hotter than it should be—as he continues to press his lips to my throat.
I have no idea how long we stay like that, but it’s long enough that my back begins to hurt from being pressed against the wall, and I feel his cum leaking onto my leg. As if he knows, he peels me away, carrying me through the penthouse to his bedroom. He drops me back on my feet, grabs his t-shirt, and pulls it over my head. He falls to his knees, tugging my underwear down as he goes.
“Christ,” he mutters, staring at me with darkened eyes. “Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you look with my cum leaking down your leg?”
I can’t imagine it’s any better than seeing him on his knees in front of me. Without warning, he leans forward, running his tongue through my slit, and I gasp. It feels so wrong. Sodirty. But so, so fucking hot. He sucks my clit into his mouth for only a moment, flicking his tongue against it before rising again and spinning me around. He pushes me down to the bed, one hand getting lost in my hair and the other going to his cock from the sounds of it.
“Need to be inside you again,” he says, and it’s the only warning I have before he slams into me again.
