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I’m slow as I lower my lips to hers, but she’s quicker, desperate. And I love it. I love her when she does this. When she acts like she needs me more than she does her next breath.
“Lie down,” I whisper against her lips, and she falls easily onto the bed, her hands still in my hair and her thighs parting for me. The heat crackles between us.
I watch as her eyes close and her lips part just slightly, her chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm. This is how she’s always given herself to me, with everything she has and full of vulnerability.
She’s perfect.
I leave an open-mouth kiss on her throat, feeling her body move beneath me, pushing against me and wanting more. My hands move of their own accord, knowing every inch as if she’d never left. As if she’s always belonged to me.
I unbutton her blouse slowly, my deft fingers slipping the buttons free one by one. Her hands trace along my knuckles as I do, her eyes glancing between my heated gaze and where my hands travel, slowly inching lower and lower. Her skin is soft and warm against my hands as I push the shirt aside and plant a small kiss and then another, lower and lower.
She writhes under me, arching her back and squirming and it makes me smile against her stomach.
“Nathan,” she pleads with me, her neck bowed as her nails dig into my shoulders. It cracks my composure. I can try to do slow with Hally. Every chance in the past, I tried. But it’s still impossible.
I’m quick to pull down her leggings and then take my shirt off, not caring when I hear the telltale sign of a button popping off from being too reckless. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be reckless so long as I can have her.
Her hands travel to her inner thighs and she whimpers with need. I love that sound; I’ve missed it more than I ever knew.
“Spread your legs wider,” I tell her in a deep, rough voice, one I hardly recognize and it takes me back to when we were younger. When I felt like she was mine in every way.
Her eyes slowly open, pale blue and crystal clear and piercing through me as I unzip my pants and push them down, quickly stroking my hard cock.
It’s the little things she does that drive me crazy. Like how she stares at my length and licks her lips. I rub the bead of precum over the tip of my dick and stroke myself again, wanting so badly to tell her to lick it off, but I’m too desperate to be inside her.
I need her more than anything.
Hovering over her, and bracing a forearm by her head, I move my cock between her slick folds, my head brushing against her opening and then up to her swollen nub.
“You’re so fucking wet for me,” I whisper in a calm voice. How? I don’t know.
The moment she looks back at me, intent on answering, I slam all the way into her. I keep my eyes on her, watching how her mouth hangs open and a silent, strangled scream accompanies her pussy spasming around my dick.
I want to keep my eyes on her, to watch every movement and worship every small touch and desperate scratch she gives me, but I can’t. It feels too good. I close my eyes and groan as I pull out quickly and then slam myself all the way back in, buried to the hilt and desperate for more, but afraid it will be over before I’m ready. I don’t give her tight walls any time to accommodate me; I can’t. I need her just like this. Rough and raw and completely at my mercy.
“Nathan,” she breathes my name frantically, her walls tightening even more and making each thrust bring me closer and closer to cumming.
My toes curl and I pound into her over and over again, the small bed knocking against the wall each time. Her heels dig into my ass as she moans the sweetest noises, climbing higher and higher.
My balls are already drawing up, ready to spill myself deep inside of her. I reach between us, pressing hard against her clit and pinning her down as she tries to move away from the intense pleasure.
I don’t let up on either the strumming of her clit or the steady ruthlessness of each hard stroke, filling her completely.
“Nathan!” she screams my name, her eyes wide open and staring straight at me as she cums on my dick. Yes!
I crash my lips against hers, silencing her and continuing my unforgiving rhythm, riding through the intensity of her orgasm.
I need more. More of her, of this, of us. I don’t want it to end, but as she lets out a strangled moan and then gently kisses the dip in my throat, I can’t hold back any longer. It’s my undoing.
