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I sucked him deep, feeling his hips buck up, making the head tap the back of my throat, then pulling back, working him with a twisting motion as my hand moved out, cupping his balls, giving the tiniest of tugs every now and again.
“Fuck,” Voss growled, grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking me back until his cock left my lips.
Then he was rolling me under him as he reached toward the nightstand, grabbing a condom, then shifting back onto his knees to slip it on.
His hungry gaze moved over me as he protected us before his hands were tracing down my inner thighs, across the apex just above my sex, then grabbing my hips, and pulling me closer.
Then, heated gaze on mine, he surged inside of me.
His curse was muffled by my moan as his thick cock filled me completely. My walls tightened hard at the feel of him, and my hips did a little involuntary circle.
There was no teasing.
We were both too far gone for that.
It had already been too long.
He fucked me hard and fast, driving us both up in unison.
One of his hands snaked up my belly to run his hand over my breasts, to tease my nipples, then it went back down, pressing down on my lower stomach, making me feel him even more acutely, as his thumb slipped down to tease over my clit.
The orgasm came hard and fast, almost without warning, stealing my breath for a moment as my body tensed.
The waves crashed over and over, and I was vaguely aware of crying out Voss’s name at some point, and the way he fucked me harder still, then slammed deep, his body jolting as he came.
He stayed there for a while afterward, sitting on his legs, head turned up, but his gaze down on me.
There was an intensity in his gaze I didn’t know how to interpret.
Then he was moving, slipping out of me, sliding away.
He moved into the bathroom for just a moment, dealing with the condom, then coming back, and dropping down on his back beside me.
One arm snaked under me, curving around my shoulder, and curling me into him.
I moved up to rest my head on the center of his chest, my leg draped casually across his hips.
Neither of us said anything.
He just held me.
Which in and of itself seemed special. Because nothing about Voss suggested he was the sort of man to hold a woman.
As for me, I traced his tattoos.
What can I say? I wouldn’t have painted my body with them if I didn’t find the damn things interesting and sexy. And Voss had a lot of them.
Some of them were shitty. And, hey, I couldn’t judge. I had a terrible one on my thigh that I’d been trying to figure out how to cover up. But others were complete works of art.
I’d seen a lot of tattoos in my day, but there was something unique about many of his. The creativity, especially. He had several tattoos for the states I assumed he’d lived in. But they were pictures of things inside the shape of the state, so well hidden that if you weren’t looking closely, you wouldn’t even know they were of each state.
In the end, I was the one to break the silence.
“What are your feelings on those fruit roll things?” I asked as one of my fingers traced a tattoo that disappeared over his shoulder.
“Fruit rolls? Like from when we were kids?”
“Yeah.”
“I dunno. Indifferent, I guess,” he said, shrugging.
“Well,” I said, popping up slightly to look down on him. “How would you feel about wrapping your cock in one the next time I go down on you?” I asked.
Then I got to watch as he went from confused, to heated, to amused in a blink.
“You got one of those Costco memberships?” he asked.
“Why?”
“‘Cause they probably have a bulk box of those things,” he said, getting a laugh out of me.
“Don’t you want to know where I got that idea?” I asked.
“Babe, I’ve been around the princesses long enough to know that every single harebrained sexual idea comes from that collective.”
“Well, in their defense, apparently it is some sort of online trend,” I told him.
“Still, that shit found them somehow,” he reasoned.
“Well, that’s true,” I agreed.
“So am I sleeping here tonight?” he asked as his hand casually drifted down my spine.
“Yes,” I told him. No hesitation. No needing to talk it over. Him in this bed with me was what felt right.
“There’s a problem, though,” I said, giving him a grave look.
“What’s that?”
“Nitro is used to sleeping next to me.”
“He’ll have to get acquainted with the foot of the bed,” Voss suggested. “How are your ribs?” he asked, his hand moving over them.
“They’re alright,” I told him. To be honest, they were aching. But I wasn’t about to give him any excuse not to fuck me again.
