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“On your back.”
“I thought you were going to … you know. From behind.”
“Did you want me to?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know for next time.”
There would be a next time. A cheering thought.
May flipped over, and Ben put the condom on and moved on top of her, his cock settling warm and hard where she was still hot and wet.
“Fuck,” he said, with a pleasurable grimace. “Come here.”
She kissed him, wondering if it was his turn to make the requests. Was that how it worked? Partners dictating the terms of their pleasure, taking orders when they felt like it, obeying slowly or with their own creative twists when they didn’t?
He lifted her knee, pushed against her heat, and kissed her deep. His hand found her breast, shaping and squeezing it. More for his own pleasure than hers, though she liked that, too. She liked him taking what he wanted from her.
He tore his mouth away and breathed against her neck as he positioned himself and entered her. Heat and intrusive pressure, a partial thrust, and then he was all the way in with a dark groan that made her clutch at his back.
“Fuck,” he said again. “You feel so good.”
She lifted her knees higher, wanting him deeper. Wanting everything.
When he began to move, his pubic hair put friction on her clit and lit a hundred little sparks of need. May gasped.
“Can you come again?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe means yes,” he said.
“Probably.”
A slow, disreputable smile. “I’m a lucky man.”
He started slow, with chaste kisses, the featherlight meeting of his mouth with the tip of her shoulder, her collarbone, her chin. He kissed her like they were too young to know how to kiss yet, all the while sinking into her body and withdrawing, a dirty secret happening below their waists.
And then she caught it from him—the need. The heat. She picked up the tempo, digging her fingers into the muscles of his lower back.
“So good,” she said, and he kissed her with more intent. Openmouthed and urgent, rocking into her faster now. Harder. He worked one hand beneath her ass and cupped it, lifting her so he could penetrate deeper, which made him press harder against her clit.
“Oh my God.”
He tongued her nipple. Scraped his teeth over it. Nothing so organized or purposeful as before, and she thought if she could see his eyes they’d be glazing over, losing focus. She looked down to where their stomachs met, ghosting her hands over his quickening hips.
So hot.
And it was like she transmitted the thought to him, because that’s when he lost it, tripping over some threshold of need. He pushed up onto his hands suddenly, braced himself over her and thrust, fast and almost frantic.
May met him stroke for stroke, letting his frenzy infect her, fill her with a hurried demand that pounded in her clutching hands, her hot skin, between her legs, everything united in her body and her head saying, Yes, yes, this.
He tensed and came with a low moan, every muscle in his torso drawing taut. The grimace on his face like agony, but better.
May slid her hand between them, her fingers on auto-pilot answering the demand of her body that it be now, that she go with him, that they do this thing together. Five fast pulses of her fingertip, Ben still hard inside her, and she came. An ugly, beautiful feeling. Dirty and bright, all at the same time.
She never looked away from his face.
