I usually kept my emotions tucked away, hidden, but Bryson’s sincerity made it easy to admit how much I wanted him. He nudged his cock into place and slowly pushed inside.
My body let him in as I blew out a breath, relaxing mymuscles. His entry was the sweetest of burns, bringing with it that hint of pleasure around the corner.
He kept going until he was buried to the hilt, then strained to dip down and graze my cheek with a kiss. “Okay?”
“Never better,” I said, hitching my legs up against his ribs.
I rolled my hips up and he slid in even deeper, both of us moaning. Then he withdrew in a slow, pleasurable drag that tugged at my inner muscles, all the way out until his cockhead caught on my rim, making my nerves spark.
I gasped. “Don’t stop.”
He drove back inside, a slow, deeply angled stroke that hit all the right spots.
“Oh god,” I muttered. “How do you feel so good?”
He rocked into me while gazing into my eyes, and damn, it was too much to handle. I let my eyelids drop closed, absorbing the sensual slide of his cock inside me, distantly acknowledging in the back of my mind that this was love-making more than fucking.
It was an alarming thought. I barely knew this man.
“Open your eyes,” he murmured. “I want to see you.”
I opened them, unable to look away from his intense gaze as he reached for my cock and began stroking me. The tension was becoming unbearable, and he sped up as if he, too, was riding a wire’s edge between pleasure and pain.
I clutched at his back, tipping my ass up, meeting each thrust. “Harder!”
He obliged, giving up the sweet love-making to slam into me forcefully, grunts tearing from his throat as he pounded me. My body lit up, electrified, and then I was screaming my pleasure as my cock spilled in his fist.
“Shit,” he cursed, losing his rhythm, hips jerking spasmodically as he came, too. He pushed in deep, grinding inside me, groaning my name into my ear.
We lay tangled together, sweaty and leaking cum, while our breathing evened out.
“That was really good,” I murmured, bemused.
I’d known that my hookup with Paxton was bad, but I’d thought all the other sex I was having was pretty decent. But one night with Bryson had changed everything.
He was filet mignon, and all those hookups were cheap freezer meals.
He pressed soft kisses to my neck and shoulder. “Why do you sound so surprised? Didn’t have high hopes for me?”
His voice was light, teasing.
I laughed quietly. “No, the opposite. I knew it’d be great, but I didn’t know…”
He raised his head and smiled at me. “I’m the best you’ve ever had, huh?”
I smacked his arm. “Okay, time for you to go.”
“Go?” he said, sounding baffled. “Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.”
My eyes widened, and he kissed my nose. “Come on, let’s shower. Then we can have round two.”
It would be smarter to send him on his way while we were ahead. The sex had been great, and Bryson had earned his second date, but nothing this good ever lasted.
But when he rolled out of the bed and held out his hand, I let him take mine without a word of protest. He led me to the bathroom and started the shower.
I stood, dazed and confused, but certainly admiring the view as he bent to adjust the water temperature.
“Come here,” he murmured, tugging me close and kissing me once more.
