“Me too,” I whisper against his mouth. His hand slides between my legs, groaning when he meets no resistance. Heglides his fingers through me, focusing on the exact spots where I need him, muffling my moan with his lips.
I arch against his hand, and his tongue slides into my mouth the same time that he pushes inside. God, he’s good. I need more. Want more. Crave more. Always, if he’s involved.
I tear my mouth from his, letting out a whimper. He immediately goes for my neck—kissing, biting, licking. His fingers keep their momentum— slow, deep, and controlled.
“Oh god,” I whine, grabbing onto the sheets. “Fuck, fuck,fuck.”
He chuckles against my collarbone. “That’s my favourite thing that you do.”
“What?” I ask breathlessly, my mind struggling to catch up to our conversation.
“Swear at me like a sailor when I make you feel good,” he says huskily, kissing my shoulder again. He leans up, pressing his mouth to mine, but unfortunately withdraws his hand at the same time. “It’s cute.”
“I don’t want to becute,”I say. “Not while you’re fucking me.”
“Oh, trust me,” he says with a look. “Everything else about you is nuclear-level hot, sweetheart, but the swearing? Cute as fuck.”
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll accept cute as fuck.”
He grins, his eyes dropping to my mouth when I purse my lips in request. “That’s another one of my favourite things.”
He kisses me. “What?”
“Asking me to kiss that mouth without ever saying a word,” he says quietly, kissing me deeper this time.
He pushes my legs apart with his knees, never once breaking our kiss. He slides my underwear to the side with his fingers and I suck in a breath and brace myself, biting down gently on his bottom lip as he pushes inside me in one smooth stroke.
The satisfied, guttural moan that leaves his body makes me tremble around him. So hot. So unbelievably hot. He takes his time until his hips are flush against mine, my fingers dragging along his shoulders.
“I don’t know how I ever thought that we could end this,” he says against my jaw. “Best feeling in the world.”
I don’t know if he means the sex or the feeling of being in love with each other. He might mean both.
“Stop,” I beg, feeling my body shake against him. He hasn’t even moved yet. “I swear if you move an inch, I’m going to break a record for the fastest orgasm in history.”
He blinks, pulling back to look at me. He scans my face to see if I’m joking. “Really?”
He seems to notice then, the way my body is trembling. He reaches down, sliding his hand to my thigh, gliding it up to the side of my ass. He softly brushes his thumb against the skin there, over and over, trying to calm my body.
His eyes connect with mine. Neither of us speak. His thumb continues its movements and without warning, and while still being buried inside me, Boston thrusts even deeper. That’s all it takes, one movement, one brush against the right spot.
I fall over the edge, a desperate string of curses leaving me in a panic. My body shakes against him as the waves smack into me over, and over, and over again.
Holy shit.
“Fuck,” he says quietly, watching me come undone. He reaches up to cup my face, forcing me to meet his eyes, but I’m still in the thick of it, my mouth trembling. “You are unbelievable.”
“Oh my god,”I cry out, and he studies me, brow furrowed. He slowly starts to rock into me again and I nod to encourage him. He can keep going. He candefinitelykeep going.
He fucks me, slowly and methodically. He touches my face, my breasts, my stomach. He pushes against all the spots that make my body shake the way it just did, and I move my hips, helping him.
I will not come again before he comes once.
I reach for him, pulling him down to me. He doesn’t change his pace as he kisses me, not even when I pull his bottom lip into my teeth to get him where I need him to be.
It works. He groans—loudly, desperately, and when I drop my head to the pillow, I know he’s seconds away from the finish line.
“Can you get there with me?” he murmurs.
