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I understand. I can’t relate, but I accept him not wanting to discuss it.
I hate that the memories hurt so much, and I hate the thought of anyone wanting to harm him.
I want to fling my arms around him and never let go.
“You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. But you can take whatever you’re feeling right now, the thing making you squeeze the hell out of my leg, and pour it into me.”
Gunther loosens his grip.
For a moment, I think he’s changed his mind. That my offer was too forward. That he might leave me here, wet and aching for him.
Instead, he shoves the blankets away, covering me with his body and kissing me with all the passion I knew was inside.
His hand drags to my hips and under my thigh, drawing my leg up to hook around him. He settles his body against my core, and I roll into him as our mouths crash together, teeth clashing, tongues claiming. I let loose a moan into his mouth, and he responds by hooking my other leg around his hips.
Gunther feels so damn good nestled between my legs, his tight, hard body against my soft stomach and softer pussy.
He pulls back and looks down at me, kissing my nose. “Do you know what it did to me to see you sleepwalking in nothing but my tee shirt?”
I smile. “It’s a very cozy tee shirt.”
“Keep it. Your nipples look fantastic in it.”
I suck in a breath, but words get lost in his demanding kiss.
I become keenly aware that the only things separating my body from his are my panties and sleep pants.
Judging by the hardness pressing against my core, this man desperately needs relief.
“Gunther, do you want me to…I mean, how do you want….”
He shushes me with a kiss and threads his fingers through mine. Sweetly covering my arms with his arms, Gunther rolls his pelvis gently against my aching core. “What I want,” he whispers between kisses. “Is to fuck you slowly.”
I shiver. He can take all the time he wants.
CHAPTER11
Gunther
Sara’s kisses are my addiction.
I’d been dreaming of burying myself deep inside her when I’d awakened moments ago. My heart was racing because of a fucking erotic dream, not because she’d startled me. But her real kiss is a thousand times better than her dream kisses.
Moments ago, I told myself this was wrong, that I’m too old for her. But she wants this; she wants me. She’s a grown adult who’s borne more responsibility at her age than most thirty-somethings I know.
Sara grinds against me as we kiss, forcing out a groan from me. I lock my fingers tighter into her hands, holding back everything in me. I’m determined to go slow, to let her know how much I’ve been worshiping her from afar.
But when my hard cock juts against the soft, wet crotch of her panties, it’s all I can do not to explode.
“Do you feel how bad I want you, Sara?”
She squeaks incoherently and tightens the grip of her thighs around me.
I growl, overcome with need, as the front of my sleep pants absorbs her wetness.
“Oh my god,” Sara breathes. “Did you just come, or am I that fucking wet?”
I have no response but to bury my face into her neck, nip at the soft flesh, and then lick over the gentle bite. She gasps at the scrape of my teeth, her wetness soaking me.
