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I saw him place a condom on the nightstand before he took his jeans off, and now I watch, perched up on my elbows as he rolls it over and down his cock. “I’m so ready,” I tell him as I push my underwear down and then toss it aside. “How do you want me?”
“Just like that,” he says, but he walks around to the other side of the bed and when he climbs on, he rolls me to my side so that I’m facing away from him.
I need him to take the lead, to show me how to do this and make it good for him. But once he moves in close, the thinking stops and the feeling begins. His muscled body pressed up against my back, his dick against my ass, his free hand roaming over my hips and my tits—I am on fire. My breaths are coming in ragged as I arch back and rub myself against him.
He whispers in my ear, “Gonna fuck you so good,” as he enters me for the first time, and I gasp when he hits me deep. Over and over and over. His thrusts are punishing but his caresses are gentle. And his words are just what I need to throw me over the edge again.
Still inside me, he leans in close and nuzzles the skin below my ear. “Even better than my fantasies, and those were pretty damn hot.”
“God, I needed that.”
“At your service, Grace. I’ll report for duty anytime.” Owen shifts when I laugh, and then rolls me onto my back so that I’m looking up at him. “Really, that wassogood. Thank you.”
“Hmm...I’ve never been thanked for sex before.”
He knows I’m teasing, though, and squeezes my ass when he shoots back, “Well, I’m still waiting on a thank you for my fancy finger work back there on the couch. I’m starting to think you’re kinda rude.”
“Then merci beaucoup. Thatwaspretty fantastic.”
He grabs a tissue from the nightstand and gets up to get rid of the condom. I watch him, quiet though my head is filled with questions.
“Can you stay?”
I don’t even know where that came from. I was floating different sorts of questions.Did I do it right? Are there positions that are off limits? Do you usually leave your prosthetic on?Too soon for all that, I know. And now I’m turning crimson, figuring that I just came off sounding hella needy. Asking him to stay over on the first date, hookup, or whatever this is?
“Uh, it’s just that you had some wine, so I don’t want you to feel—”
“Yeah, I’ll stay.” He turns back to me and smiles. “I’d like that.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Owen
It wasn’t a dream.
I’m content when I hear the sound of steady breathing beside me, feel her soft naked skin nestled up against mine, and my drowsy eyes open and take in my surroundings. I’m in Grace’s bed. A voice inside my head decides:This is good.
I roll onto my side, wrap my free arm around her body and then breathe her in. Grace, the sheets, the room—the sweet smell of good loving is in the air. I shift to get closer still, and in that moment I’m reminded that my leg is off.
She asked me last night, laying side by side after our second outstanding session, if I kept my prosthetic on when I slept. “No,” I told her, but the truth is that I was contemplating keeping it on before she asked the question.
People make a point of commenting on what they perceive as resilience in the face of adversity, my self-confidence, my fearless, can-do attitude. And that’s the face I show to the world—most days. I am disabled, but I’m not weak and I never wan’t to be perceived that way. And while I would say that I have a positive self-image overall, I’ll admit to moments of doubt, self-pity and even shame.
I didn’t want to take my leg off in front of Grace last night. It’s inevitable, that is, if she does want to see me again and get to know me better. But last night I wanted to be a man in her eyes—complete and whole and able.
I forced her to watch as I bared myself to her. It wasn’t some big reveal, she already knew, but I needed to see her face, to see if she wanted me the way a woman wants a man in her bed. And thank God I only saw longing as Grace’s eyes roamed up and over me.
Some preening dude. You know, the ones who spend entirely too much time working out?
I smile thinking back to that wiseass comment, her first impression of me. And I was grateful for those hours spent in the gym when she raked her eyes over every inch of my body.You haveto be strong, she said, and she got that right. It’s not a choice for me. My abs need to be solid to keep me steady and balanced, and my arms, chest and shoulders need to be able to bear an insane amount of weight just so that I can move and get through the activities of daily living that everyone else takes for granted.
Bottom line is that Grace wanted me, and sex with her was so much better than I ever could have hoped for. Round two had her riding me with her long hair falling down and over her breasts. She was like a living, breathing work of the most beautiful art.
I’m getting hard again just thinking back to what she said, her sexy words and whimpers. Grace is a woman who likes sex, and that’s about the hottest thing in the world.
Her eyes flutter open, and then she smiles as if she’s pleasantly surprised when she sees me. Maybe she thought she was dreaming, too.
“Good morning.”
