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“I’m great. ”
“Good. ”
I’m not ready to move yet. I’ve been told I have amazing stamina, but it’s obvious now that this is only true when I don’t give a shit. With Caroline, I’m going to have to work hard just to not be the king of the premature ejaculators.
“West?”
She rocks again.
“Hunh?”
“Are you going to fuck me or what?”
“I ever tell you I don’t like bossy women?”
She slithers away beneath me, then thrusts up. Her mouth falls open in a soft O. Then she smiles and looks at me, like, I’m such a genius.
She does it again. “You—oh—like me, though—oh my God. ”
Whatever tiny piece of control I was holding on to, I lose it. I start to move, and she’s right with me. I suck her tits, kiss her neck, behind her ear, everyplace she likes. I drive into her, savoring every stroke, the tight clasp of her cunt, the way she moans, the slide of our bodies, the sex stink better than any perfume, the taste of sweat at her throat.
“Can you come like this?” I ask.
“I don’t … know. ”
I get a hand under her ass, angle her up. She squeaks.
“Better?”
“Oh, wow. ” After a few seconds, she says, “Harder. ”
Music to my ears.
I speed up, stop banking my thrusts, let her have more of my need, more of my greed, and she takes it. She wants it. She gets her legs around me, digs her heels into me on every stroke, lifts up into me, and says, “West, yeah, oh, God. ” I didn’t think she’d be like this, this open, this loud, but she is and I love it.
“This gonna work?”
I don’t have to ask, though. She’s tossing her head, heels back on the bed, digging in, getting restless and desperate. “Please,” she says. “Please. ”
She always begs me when she’s
about to come. I love that, too. I love making her so crazy that she loses her pride and just begs.
“So fucking sexy. ”
Then we’re moving fast and frantic, and I don’t have any way to describe it that’s worth anything. I push into her until there’s nowhere to get to, until I’ve already got there, and there’s no her or me, just us, our bodies, our heat, this gathering pleasure white-hot and dangerous, too dangerous, but I don’t care. I can’t think.
I can only move with Caroline, deep, deeper, all the way toward the center of something bigger than either of us.
She tightens. I groan. She grips me. I kiss her.
She moans and her voice breaks, a beautiful cracked-open sound. My balls tighten, the joy searing through me, her eyes closing, her arms clenching, my heart open as I watch her light up with pleasure.
MARCH
Caroline
We got five weeks.
