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His cock shifted back, then slid inside, and the position had him stroking across my G-spot as he settled, making a deep moan escape me.
I paused for just a moment before I started to ride him, working him quickly, keeping myself in the moment and out of my head, getting lost in the sensations as his fingers dug into my hips, guiding me to go faster and faster as the orgasm started to build.
It crashed through me with an intensity that had me crying out and falling back against his chest, gasping for breath.
As usual, though, Cato wasn’t done. He was still hard inside of me.
“You gonna give me another?” he asked, his deep voice in my ear, his warm breath tickling the shell of it, making a little shiver move through me. Not an inward one, either. One he felt. One that had a little approving rumble moving through him.
Then he was shifting, taking me with him as he gained his feet.
His hands were on my hips, holding me close, keeping his cock inside of me, even as my whole upper body bent forward, my hands landing on the coffee table to steady myself as he started to fuck me.
Hard.
Fast.
The sounds of us filling the room, quickly drowned out by my moans, and Cato’s groans as we built up together.
“Fucking perfect pussy,” he hissed, making my walls tighten in response. “You gonna squeeze my cock again?” he asked, even as my orgasm started to crest, and then do just that.
Taking him with me this time.
“Fuck, Rynn,” he hissed afterward, his hands still on my hips, and I was pretty sure that was the only thing holding me back from falling forward right then, because my hands weren’t even on the table anymore, just hanging limply in the air as my body hinged away from Cato’s.
Seeming to realize this, his hands went around my belly and chest instead, pulling me backward against him, then just holding me there.
What’s more, though, was I let myself be held.
When was the last time I’d been held like that? Hugged, even?
Months?
I mean, if drunken girlish friendship hugs didn’t count… never?
I was pretty sure I’d never just been held by a man before.
To be fair, there was a good chance that was because of me, not them. Maybe I’d known several men who would want to hold me close, but I was always the one creating a disconnect, never wanting to get messy feelings that would fuck up a good, casual situation.
This, though?
This felt good.
That gooey chocolate in the center of a warmed lava cake kind of good.
I tried to remind myself that it was all the sex hormones creating a feel-good cocktail in my body.
The thing was, I’d had sex before. And I don’t ever remember anything like this.
Which was precisely why I needed to pull away, damnit. But I couldn’t seem to force my limbs to do so.
In the end, it was fate that forced us apart.
And by “fate,” I mean Binx.
Who, apparently, had jumped silently on the arm of the couch only to reach out his evil paw, and take a swipe at Cato’s ass.
“What thefuck?” Cato groused, yanking away from me to spin around and find the cat sitting there on the arm, daring him with his yellow eyes to come closer.
