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As soon as I close the door, Lia grabs me by the hand and leads me to our room.
She’s naked.
Fully.
Fuck. It doesn’t matter how many times I see her unclothed, it still has the same effect as that first time in her apartment.
She’s still the most beautiful rose I’ve ever seen.
Lia pushes me until I’m lying on the bed, unbuckles my pants, and straddles me. Her hands stroke my already hard cock as she bites her lower lip.
“Are you going to use me, Lenochka?” I tease.
“I miss you…” she groans, slowly guiding me inside her wet heat. “I barely get to have you lately…”
Her head tips back with a moan as she lowers herself until I’m fully sheathed inside her.
Her trembling palm rests on my chest while she gives herself a moment to adjust. No matter how much my beast urges me to do something, to fuck her thoroughly, I rein it in, letting Lia have her fill.
She starts moving slowly, her hips rotating with an increasing rhythm while she rides me. My dick thickens inside her and she traps the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. But it’s not only because of the ecstasy etched on her features. It’s also everything else. From the way our groins meet with each up and down movement or how her arousal drips down my length.
A sheen of perspiration coats her glowing skin and dampens her dark locks as they swish against her shoulders. Her breasts bounce, her engorged nipples lactating when she picks up her pace. I reach a hand out and pinch them, making her moan, then whimper.
The view from the bottom is the only reason I let her do this sometimes. But even my patience has limits.
Grabbing her by the hips, I roll her over and she squeals as her back meets the mattress. But then she moans when I drive into her fast and hard before going slow and unhurried, the pace that we both enjoy.
Her erotic sounds reverberate through the air, urging me on, begging me, imploring me for more.
The sound of her voice makes me even harder and I give her what she needs. After she deprived me of them in the past, I don’t take her noises of pleasure for granted. Whenever she offers them, like now, I engrave each and every one of them in my memory.
“Oh, Adrian…yes…yes…” she cries out as she falls apart around me. Her pleasure hooks on to mine and I join her at almost the same time.
We lie there sprawled over each other, kissing slowly while I touch her anywhere I can reach. Then we just stare at one another as I stroke her hair behind her ear.
“You’re so cheap,” she pouts, running her fingers over my chest.
“Cheap?”
“You didn’t let me finish riding you.”
“You don’t like finishing riding me. You only like to start it.”
“Maybe I do like finishing.”
“Is that why you never orgasm in that position?”
“Whatever.” She sighs. “I’m just happy we weren’t interrupted.”
“Don’t jinx it. The hellion is one door away.”
She laughs softly, then pauses. “Hey, Adrian.”
“What?”
“Remember when I lied to you about cheating?”
My mood instantly blackens. I hate that part of our lives, even if it shaped who we are today. But what I hate the most is the feelings from back then. It’s true that she didn’t cheat, that she was as faithful to me as I was to her, but at one point, I believed it. And that pain split me in two, and because I was miserable, I hurt her.
