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Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she raised up onto her knees, aligned her sex to the jutting tip of his cock, and slowly, slowly impaled herself on his thick, hard length.
All the way.
“All the way,” she murmured, losing herself in the pleasure on his face.
“All the way,” he echoed, his hands coming to her hips.
She controlled their movements. Rolling her hips, riding his length. She splayed her hands on his chest, still holding his gaze. She wanted to see his eyes when he came. When they came together.
His fingers dug into her flesh, the pressure adding to her own rising pleasure. He stretched her, to an almost painful limit, and that too increased her pleasure.
She rode him, her breasts swinging gently with her movement, his fingers gripping her hips tighter. He drove up into her, his thrusts in perfect sync with her rhythm, each stroke pushing her closer and closer to another bone-melting release.
“You are perfect,” he moaned, eyes half shuttered, breath ragged. “Fucking perfect.”
The declaration pushed her over the edge. Or maybe it was his powerful strokes, stimulating her clit, filling her. She came, the quake starting deep in her core, radiating out. Consuming her. Possessing her.
She cried out, her muscles contracting, squeezing him.
“Fuck.” The exclamation tore from him, and his thrust grew wild, his seed filling the condom.
They rode out their climaxes together, Elisa slumping with spent exhaustion on Angus’s chest for a few moments before letting out a soft squeal as he rolled her onto her back. He looked down at her, his shaggy hair hanging around his face, his eyes shadowed in the deepening dusk.
“Elisa…” he whispered, her name barely a breath.
She waited, her heart pounding into her throat.
Stay with me. Say it. Say, stay with me. Forever.
He lowered his head, kissed her, a gentle brush of his lips on hers, and then withdrew from her body, climbed off the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom.
She closed her eyes and let out her own breath.
“Stay.”
His deep voice snapped her eyes open, and she pushed herself up onto her elbows.
He stood in the en suite’s doorway, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, the light spilling from the bathroom turning him in a silhouette.
“Stay,” he repeated. “With me. Tonight.”
She swallowed.
“Please?”
A smile pulled her lips as a wave of warm joy rolled through her. “I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
Buttoningup the loose cotton shirt Angus had given her just before leaving the bedroom to go make them some supper—right after they’d made love, again—Elisa walked into the living room. “My god, that smells good.”
He’d also given her a clean pair of his boxer briefs and she’d put them on after having another, quicker, shower. She found the empty bulge in the front of the crotch particularly funny and found herself patting it more than once since pulling them up over her hips, grinning every time. She’d never worn men’s underwear before. Who knew they were not only comfortable, but also comical?
The second the delicious aroma of whatever he was cooking slipped into her nose, she forgot all the fun of his briefs. Her mouth instantly flooded with saliva, her stomach growling.
Not surprising. She hadn’t eaten anything since the omelet she’d had at his restaurant how many hours ago?
“Chilli prawn larb lettuce cups,” he answered from the kitchen, flicking her a quick look over his shoulder as he expertly handled a large wok on the burner. “Finger-food with a little bit of a kick. One of my signature dishes.”
