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She let her head fall back on a groan, but he didn’t stop talking. Forcing her brain back into commission was hard, but so was he and he wasn’t moving inside her yet, so she did her best to pay attention.
“Sofia, look at me, angel.” She opened her eyes and her heart followed on his next words. “Let me love you. Say yes.”
She managed a nod and a whispered, “Yes.”
* * *
Finally.
He was nearly shaking with simultaneous relief and need. After so many years of watching and waiting, he was finally going to be with her. He’d earned every minute of this pleasure, and he was determined to remember every sweet second.
He’d been nervous earlier, revealing the well-kept secret of his crush, but she’d needed his words, his reassurance. He was helpless in the face of her need. Bringing her to climax almost had him shooting in his underwear like the goddamn boy who’d loved her first.
He pulled the blankets down and scooted her back until her head was on his pillow. He hoped he’d smell her hair there later. The sight of her naked and grinning in his bed made his heart clutch uncomfortably in his chest. His cock twitched in agreement. She was his. At last.
He grabbed a condom from his bedside table and climbed back into bed beside her. Even just touching side to side was threatening his control. He kissed her lips gently, reveling in her sleepy, sated response. She opened for him so sweetly. While she was relaxed, he took the opportunity to run his hands over every curve, committing her architecture to sensory memory. Neck, shoulder, collarbone, sternum, breasts, waist, belly, hips. Every place he touched her was beautiful to him, and he was determined to show her. He considered it a battle won when she didn’t flinch until he reached her still sensitive pussy, breaking the kiss with a gasp.
“Oh, yes, Adrian. More.” She tugged at his shoulders, and he let her pull him where she needed him.
His weight pressed her into the bed and her greedy hands on his ass were urging him to take what he so desperately wanted. What they both needed. “Hold on.”
“I am.” She flexed her fingers, her nails sending sharp spurs of pain straight through his ass to his cock, twitching his hips forward so the length of his hard shaft stroked over her clit. The pleasure was intense and reminded him why he needed to slow down a second.
“I mean, wait. I need to cover up.”
“Don’t tell me I’m not the only one with body issues,” she teased. She ran her hands possessively up his back, and he enjoyed the chill running down his spine.
He could think of nothing he’d rather do than stay naked around her permanently. But he had to protect them. He pulled out of her arms and snagged the condom off the bed. “I meant this, smart-ass.” He wiggled the foil packet between his fingers.
“Oh…right. Okay, I guess I can wait for that, but hurry up already. Talky, talky, talky.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed in the middle of sex, but he loved that he could with Sofia. She was still chuckling when he slid his latex-covered cock into her sweet pussy. He could feel every giggle and gasp gripping him, guiding him deeper until he was fully sheathed.
And then the time for laughter had passed.
“Sofia. You feel so fucking good.”
He tried. God help him, he tried. To go slow. To bring her back to the peak. To keep a firm grip on his sanity. But when she pulled her knees up to grip his ribs, moaning and rocking her hips to his rhythm, taking him as deep as he could go, any hope of restraint disappeared.
His need for her rode him hard. He pistoned his hips, slapping his thighs against her ass with every thrust. He knew his hands were gripping her shoulders too hard, but the thought of letting her go was obscene. She arched up, and he took her breast into his mouth, suckling hard, and sent her over the edge once again. Feeling her orgasm clenching around his cock was more than enough to send him chasing her over that cliff into oblivion.
When he came back into himself, he realized he was crushing her. He levered up on his forearms so he could see her face. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The way she said it, with a laugh tickling the back of her throat, made him grin.
“Fine, huh? You know, a wise woman once told me that fine is never fine when a woman says it.” He nudged forward with his hips, still buried inside her, on every repetition of the f-word.
“Then maybe you should try again. Practice makes perfect.”
He chuckled into the crook where her neck met her shoulder and nipped her lightly. “A very wise woman, indeed.”
When he pulled away and rose from the bed, she groaned and rolled after him. He disposed of the condom and turned back, committing the image of her draped across his bed, sated and sleepy, to memory. Those old art dudes knew what they were doing. She belonged framed in a museum, just like this. A goddamned masterpiece.
He tucked his arms behind her shoulders and beneath her knees, and lifted her to his chest. She wrapped an arm around his neck and burrowed in.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I believe I mentioned needing a bedanda shower.”
