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Now?
I want this. I want that. I want everything.
"I'll go slow," Patrick promises. Then his hands are on his zipper. The foil packet. The condom.
He brings one hand to my hips and he holds me in place as he enters me.
He stretches me slowly. Then he pulls back and drives into me again.
He stays slow, at first.
Then he moves a little faster. A little harder.
I press my palms into the mattress for stability.
He keeps his hands on my hips, holding me in place as he drives into me again.
He feels good inside me. And I love the way he's handling me, guiding me, responding to my groans.
I lower myself onto the bed.
He rolls my dress a little higher and shifts onto the mattress. "Spread your legs."
I do.
He positions his body behind mine, lifts my hips, drives into me. In one swift motion, he lowers the two of us, so I'm pressed into the bed, the weight of his body sinking into mine.
Again, he starts slow. The mattress barely shakes. But as he moves faster and harder, I have to hold on to the sheets to stay in place. To contain the need racing through my body.
He drives into me again and again, pushing me closer, winding me tighter.
He feels so good inside me. Warm and hard and mine.
I've never felt that before, that overwhelming physical, visceral need to take his body into mine.
But right now—
This really is bliss.
I close my eyes and surrender to the sensation of him driving into me.
The tension in my sex winds tighter and tighter.
His breaths run together.
His fingers dig into my thighs.
Then he's there, rocking into me as he comes, groaning my name into the air, digging his nails into my thighs.
It hurts in the best possible way, like he's claiming my body as his too.
Here. Only here.
But here is really fucking good.
He works through his orgasm then he pulls back, takes care of the condom, rights his jeans.
I push myself up and reach for my panties, but Patrick stops me.
