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My lips sought his as he settled against me, his cock straining.
“We can’t,” he insisted, pulling against my hold.
“Yes, we can,” I countered.
“Babies cry,” he reminded me. “Zombies hear,” he added, nipping my lower lip. “Condoms expire,” he concluded.
“Copper IUDs don’t,” I told him, writhing against him. “Not for a decade or so anyway,” I added as he pulled back, smirking down at me.
“Yeah?”
“Yep.”
“Not worried about anything else?”
“Have you been banging a bunch of zombies?” I asked, getting a chuckle out of him.
“I don’t think I could ever be that desperate,” he told me before his lips claimed mine again.
My hands roamed over his body until they settled on his ass, dragging him more firmly against me as my hips rocked against his hardness.
It wasn’t long before he was moving with me until, suddenly, he was rolling to his side, pulling me onto mine.
He yanked his board shorts down, then reached for my thigh, pulling it up over his hip, letting his bare cock slip against my cleft, making a low moan escape me.
His hand gripped the side of my neck, his gaze holding mine as he shifted, as he pressed against the opening of my body, then started to slide inside.
A small gasp escaped both of us at the sensation, so overdue it was all but forgotten.
“Fuck,” he hissed as he settled deep. His forehead pressed to mine as his body stilled, trying to find some self-control.
My hands pressed to his chest, pushing him onto his back, going with him, then moving to sit up.
His heavy-lidded eyes roamed over me before finding their way back up to my face as I started to ride him.
A bit slow at first, trying to get the rhythm right.
What can I say? I was a little out of practice.
Caleb’s hands went to my hips, guiding me for a moment, but then letting one hand slip between my thighs to tease my clit as I moved, going faster with each passing moment until I felt my walls tightening around him.
His hips started to trust into me, intensifying the sensation until I was pushed right to that edge.
“Come,” he demanded, his hips and his finger insistent. “Come for me, Catie.”
Then there, in the bright sunlight, on the deck of a boat, with zombies on the shore, I did, crying out his name.
His hips started to thrust harder and faster, reaching his own release. As he did, his hands held my hips down as he bucked deep and came with my name hissing between his lips.
I lowered to his chest afterward, face resting in his neck as we both tried to come back down from the orgasms.
“You’re going to need to tolerate this,” I informed him, nuzzling in a bit. “I think I’ve been touch-starved through this,” I admitted.
“I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity to admit that I fucking love a snuggle, Catie with a C and ie,” he told me, arms giving me a squeeze.
“Yeah, speaking of that,” I said, pressing up just enough to look down at his stupidly good-looking face.
“My rugged masculinity?” he asked, smiling at me.
