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He takes me there in record time. The shimmer of my orgasm washes over me like summer rain, leaving me damp and panting.
“I like those yeses.” His voice is low and reverent as he makes his way to my breasts again.
I didn’t realize I spoke. I laugh, and that feels as decadent as the orgasm.
Nate is over me, hooking my leg over his hip. His lips first kiss one of my eyelids, then the other. Then my nose. He smells like musk. Like sex. Like me. How strangely erotic.
“Open your eyes.” His tone is commanding. When I do, I am assaulted by his.
“Your eyes are so blue.” Dumb, right? But that’s what I say.
“Don’t look away.” He rolls a condom on without breaking eye contact. I do as he asks and keep my gaze on him. Not a hardship. He’s nice to look at.
“Watch me.”
I nod and nearly break my promise when he slides into me. I accept him inch by inch, reveling in the way he fills me—to the brim, just like last time. Unlike last time, his pace is slower. More intentional. His expression is pained like he’s struggling to keep his own eyes open.
We could shut each other out and blindly take what we need. This degree of intimacy isn’t what either of us bargained for.
He squeezes my hip, sucks in a breath. His release is on the precipice. I clench my inner muscles around his glorious cock and watch a struggle erupt on his face.
Power. I have it.
After he shuts his eyes briefly, they land on me again. There’s a resolve that wasn’t there before. Slowly, he draws out of me and then plunges in slower.
“Vivian,” he warns when my world goes black. “Eyes on mine.”
I wrench my eyes open and hold his in challenge. Rising to meet him. He’s all I see. He’s all I hear. The beats of the music blend in with his labored breaths and my quickened huffs of excitement. I barely hear the lyrics beyond the sound of my own heartbeat sloshing in my ears.
His control slips. I place my hand on his cheek. He’s moving frantically, his teeth bared, the tendons in his neck tight. He’s a beautiful sight.
“Give it to me,” I breathe.
He takes one of my wrists and then the other, trapping them over my head.
“You first.” He ducks his head and suckles my nipple while stroking into me. Harder. Faster. He holds me down and I feel powerless and safe at the same time.
I like it.
A few more deep strokes is all it takes for him to wring another orgasm from me. It flows like warm honey, spilling out and leaving me drained yet full. He’s not far behind. A low groan works its way up his throat. He’s coated in my pleasure, and I squeeze him again, milking his release from him easily. The hand around my wrists releases.
Spent, he sags on the couch, his arm shaking as he holds his weight on one elbow to keep from crushing me.
I skim my fingernails down his back and he gives me a little more of his weight. The pounding of our pulses slam our chests and where we’re still connected. He drops a slightly sweaty kiss on my neck and I wrap him in my arms.
“Thank you,” I whisper. For knowing me. Believing me. For sticking with me. For making sure he gave me what I needed when I needed it. Emotional after that soul-crushing act, a tear trickles down my cheek and into my hair.
He presses a firm kiss to my mouth, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Anytime.”
I smile as another tear falls.
We lie there for a long, long while, neither of us in a hurry to pull apart. Or maybe, not capable of it.
