Page 72 of Chris

Chris didn’t need to stop and ask Valeria if this was what she wanted with him, or if she was just reacting from her high emotions. This woman had been gaslighted and abused enough in her one relationship—he hadn’t forgotten what she told him that first time she let him touch her, after all—that she didn’t need another man to make her wonder if he was underhandedly second-guessing her.

She was a woman.

Capable of attraction, lust, and desire.

If she wanted to fuck, then that’s what she would do. He was more than happy to give her whatever she wanted because that meant he was fucking her.

It was a win-win, really.

“I … I want you,” Valeria mumbled against his mouth, her voice a needy whine that had his cock hardening, “please.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he told her in a groan.

He pulled the six-pack of condoms he had bought for this trip to keep on him as a just in case from the back of his slacks, tossing them to the bed while kissing Valeria with enough force to have her walking backward. She only stopped when the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed.

He’d never seen someone be as graceful or sexy as she was undressing him one piece of clothing at a time. Her intent, as heady as her determination, had Chris checking his more dominant nature to be the one to control during sex.

And then, as she pushed his boxer-briefs down his hips, the last stich of clothing on him, she stilled when his hard cock jerked out in her direction. Chris grinned at the color flooding her cheeks—a delicious red, innocent in some ways, and yet that want in her eyes made it seem so fucking sinful, too.

He thought, a walking complex.

That’s what this woman was.

She was many things.

Alone, or together.

Sinful and innocent.

Harsh, and soft

It amazed him.

And turned him all the way on.

“What do you want, huh?” he asked. “You get whatever you want, Valeria, I need you to use your words, and tell me. I’ll always give it, if you tell me. So, what is it, babe? I can lay you back on this bed, feast on your pussy, and then fuck you until you can’t take it anymore … or I can let you climb on me, and ride until your heart is content. You can bend over this bed, and let me worship your pussy and your ass, or you can—”

“I want to touch you.”

Chris audibly swallowed.

Damn.

He didn’t mind making this all about her. Regardless of what other men liked to bullshit about when it meant busting a nut during sex, he got off on getting someone else off. And yet, to hear her ask to pleasure him almost had his fucking knees buckling.

What was she doing to him?

“Yeah, Val,” he murmured, “fucking touch me. Get what you want, woman.”

She did, deft fingers curling around his length after he’d stepped out of those boxer-briefs. Light tugs really stroked him awake, but it was the way she tightened and loosen her grip with a faster speed that had his head falling back for a moan to drag from his lips.

“You look so good like that.”

Her whisper woke up his senses.

Every fucking one.

“All for you,” he rumbled.