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I simply know what I’m capable of and what I’m not...and where I foresee it causing problems. But the easiest way to deal with questions I don’t want to answer—the way Ialwaysdeal with it—is to distract the person asking.
I kiss the inside of Hannah’s knee. It’s the softest of kisses, a bare graze of lips and her skin ripples with goose bumps. Oh, Hannah. She’s still sensitive from the orgasm I gave her a few moments ago. Still reeling from the pleasure.
I want to draw this out—stretch the anticipation until neither one of us can take it—but I can’t. For too long, I’ve denied myself what I wanted. What we both wanted.
I slide my hands under her ass and pull her to the edge of the bed, setting my mouth on her pussy like a man starved. She bucks against me, fingers driving through my hair and nails digging into my scalp. Her words aren’t fully formed and she squirms—wanting more and less and in equal measure. She tells me to keep going when I pull back for the briefest second, blowing cool air across her swollen skin in a way that makes her back arch against the bed.
Then I’m on her again. Feasting on the honeyed taste of her, licking and sucking until she rolls her hips, grinding herself against my face. Yes, baby. Take it. Take all of it.
“Owen,” she moans, the keening sound like a shot of pure adrenaline. “Yes!”
I’m wired, like a spring pulled tight. The need to drive into her is pounding in my head like a religious chant.
Take her, take her, take her.
When she comes, her fist flexes against my scalp and she clamps her thighs around my head. It feels like her orgasm goes on forever; she rocks until she’s wrung every last bit of pleasure from it. Watching her flop back against the bed—one arm flung over her eyes—is a picture I’ll never forget. Moonlight dances over her skin.
“You’re so beautiful.” I climb onto the bed, grabbing the condom, and encourage her to come with me.
Propping my back against an obscene number of pillows, I tug her closer. She straddles me, her knees digging into the soft cotton on either side of my legs. For a moment she hovers there, her eyes locked on mine. Like she’s looking for something—but what, I have no idea.
Hannah leans forward, her hair brushing my cheek. I feel her lips at my ear, her warm breath sending anticipation slicing through me. “Don’t be gentle.”
“You want it rough, huh? You want to make sure you’re not walking straight tomorrow?”
She pulls back, her pupils blacker than ink. There’s a glazed look to her now, like arousal has dulled her edges. Like she’s sinking into sensation. “Yes.”
She plucks the condom from my hand and tears the packet open. Squeezing the tip, she places it over the head of my cock and begins to roll it down. Condoms aren’t usually sexy. Necessary? Hell yeah. But part of the foreplay? Not really...until now.
“Keep talking,” she says, her eyes meeting mine like smoke and fire.
She likes the dirty talk? Can. Fucking. Do.
“Spread your legs, baby. I want to make sure you’re soaking wet before I stick my cock in you.” I grab myself with one hand and angle toward her, dragging the tip through the slick moisture, rubbing back and forth in a way that makes her mewl. “You’re so wet. So ready for me.”
“I am,” she breathes, her chest rising and falling with choppy breath.
I reach behind her and sink my fingers into her ass, guiding her toward me. She feels like heaven, like sin and temptation and all that’s right with the world. Planting her hands on my chest, she shifts so that I’m pressing against her entrance.
“Sink down slowly,” I command. “I want to feel every little bit until I’m in as far as you can take me.”
“Yes.” The word is a hiss.
She bears down and takes me inside her. She’s so tight I have to press my head back against the pillows for a second so I don’t lose it. But damn, it’s like she was made for me. We fit together perfectly.
“So full,” she gasps, her forehead touching mine. She presses down more, taking me inside her, stretching to accommodate me.
“That’s it. Slowly.” I press a kiss to her lips, my hands rubbing circles over her ass to relax her. “Don’t tense up.”
I feel the movement as she gives in and slides down the last little bit. It’s everything—and I sit there for a moment, still and quiet. Giving her time to adjust. Hell, giving myself time to adjust.
I’m fucking Hannah Anderson.
My mind spins. The amount of times I’ve jerked off in the shower to this very fantasy... God. I don’t even know how many times. All I know is that I never thought I’d be here. That I shouldn’t be here.
But that I want it more than anything.
“I’m good,” she whispers.
