Dex pushed into me in one slow, hard drive that stole my breath.
The stretch burned, then turned molten. I dug my fingers into his back and held on as he filled me, thick and hot and too much in exactly the way I wanted. The motel bed creaked. My body adjusted around him, and every nerve I had went bright.
Dex stopped when he was buried inside me.
His forehead dropped to mine. “You okay?”
The question was rough enough to scrape.
I nodded, then remembered he needed words to keep himself on the right side of the line.
“Yes,” I said. “Move.”
His hips drew back.
Then he thrust in again.
The first stroke made my nails bite into his skin. The second made my head press back into the pillow. By the third, neither of us was quiet.
Dex fucked like he kissed: controlled until control became useless. He kept one hand beside my head, the other under my thigh, opening me wider, driving deeper. I met him every time, hips lifting, legs tightening around him, refusing to let him take anything I wasn’t giving right back.
The narrow motel light cut over his shoulders. Sweat shone on his throat. The crucifix swung between us, brushing my chest with every hard thrust.
I caught it once in my fist.
Dex groaned.
“There,” he said, voice wrecked. “Hold on to me.”
“I am.”
“Not enough.”
He hooked my knee higher against his side.
The change drove him deeper, and I cried out before I could stop it.
His mouth found my throat. “That’s it.”
The praise hit harder than it had any right to.
I turned my face into his neck, biting down just enough to muffle the sound that broke out of me.
Dex’s hips stuttered once, then his rhythm went rougher.
“Don’t hide from me,” he said.
“I’m not hiding.”
“You’re biting me to stay quiet.”
“I’m biting you because you’re available.”
A laugh broke out of him, breathless and real, and it ruined me more than the heat did.
I kissed him before the sound could matter.
He kissed me back hard, and the angle changed again, his hand sliding between us. His thumb found my clit. One stroke. Two. Slow circles that didn’t match the punishing pace of his hips at all.
