“God, you’re so tight,” he says, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding still. “Are you okay?”
I nod, rolling my hips experimentally. The slight movement sends sparks of pleasure through me. “I’m perfect. Please fuck me.”
Alfie starts to thrust, setting a steady rhythm that has me moaning with every stroke. He hits spots deep inside me that I didn’t even know existed. My word. This man is a freakin’ god.
He reaches between us as he rocks, moving his hand down past my waist to my core to rub my clit with the palm of his hand.
I see stars behind my eyes as I build up to another release. Holyshit.
His breath is catching, and his groans are deepening. The sound of him loving this as much as I am is all I needto let go. At the same time as my body shakes, my name breaks out of his lips as he falls on top of me.
Alfie collapses onto his back beside me, one arm draped over his face, his chest still heaving.
For a second, neither of us speak.
The air between us is thick, heavy with something I can’t name. Something I’m not sure I want to.
I turn my head, watching him in the dim light. His brows are drawn together, his fingers flexing against the sheets like he’s already replaying this, already trying to put it into a box it won’t fit in.
I smirk.
“Regretting it already?” I tease, running a lazy finger along his stomach, feeling the way his muscles twitch beneath my touch.
His arm drops just enough for one dark, unreadable eye to meet mine.
“No,” he mutters. “Just… thinking.”
I roll onto my side, propping myself up on one elbow, dragging my fingers lower just to watch his jaw tighten. “That sounds dangerous.”
His lips twitch, but it’s gone too fast.
I keep watching him. The way his body is still pressed into the mattress like he’s trying to ground himself, like he already knows this was a mistake but can’t bring himself to act like it.
Oh, Alfie.
"You’re about to say something self-destructive, aren’t you?" I muse, trailing my fingers up his chest now, feeling the way he tenses, like he’s resisting the urge to pull me back on top of him.
He exhales sharply. “Tink?—”
“Alfie.” I lean down, pressing my lips to his shoulder, just to see if he’ll let me.
He does.
I smirk against his skin. “You think too much.”
He makes a rough, strangled sound, something like a laugh, but it’s dry. Hollow.
“You make it really fucking hard to think,” he admits, grudgingly.
“Then don’t.”
A pause.
A sharp inhale.
And then?—
I barely get the chance to smirk before he’s on me again, rolling over, pinning me beneath him, his hands framing my face, his mouth crashing into mine like he’s already lost the fight.
