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I dig into my bag blindly and grab my key. I slot it into the door and walk inside, him hot on my heels. I dump the bag on the floor and the mail on the coffee table then turn to him.
He kicks the door shut, and I’ve barely taken a breath before he’s on me, pushing me back on the sofa, pushing my sweater up my stomach. His hands slide across my skin as desperately as his lips move against mine.
I tangle my fingers in his hair and flick my tongue against his lips. Begging him for more, because I need this, too. I need all of him, starting right now.
“We should talk,” he whispers against my jaw. “I know we should.”
“Fuck now, talk later,” I say, throwing his words back at him. “And I’ll even agree to a snuggle.”
He grins, lifting me and pulling my shirt and sweater over my head in one swift motion. “Snuggly bitch.” He runs his nose along my jaw before his lips find my neck and travel down to my breasts.
He cups them over my bra, rubbing his thumbs over the spots where my nipples are. His mouth is hot against my skin, the wet, openmouthed kisses he’s dropping against me burning into me. I tug at his sweater now. I need to feel his skin against mine.
I don’t have the patience for this.
I tug more forcefully until he laughs quietly and pulls it off. His shirt follows. My fingers find his stomach instantly, ghosting over it. I kick my shoes off when his fingers trail down my sides to my jeans.
“I’ll take my time later. Right now, I need in you too badly.”
I unbutton his jeans. “Then stop talking and fuck me.”
“Gladly.” He shakes off the rest his clothes and removes mine.
My socks are removed with my jeans, my panties all but torn from me, and my bra roughly unclipped. He grabs my legs and hooks them around him, leaning one of his knees on the sofa. He lifts my hips and rubs himself against my wetness, covering the head of his cock and teasing me until he pushes inside.
I reach for him as he fills me. I cling to him like a koala, lifting my hips into him as he kisses my neck and drives into me forcefully. My nails dig into his shoulders. One of his hands is steadying him and the other is in my hair, tangling and pulling it, and I’m moaning in his ear, asking him to go faster, because I need more, always more.
He closes his mouth over mine and swallows my cries as they get louder. Our skin slaps together and my body is hot, so hot, trembling, shaking, shuddering, ready for the explosion of the build. Ready to feel him finish inside me, ready to take every last bit he has.
I bite down on his bottom lip. He groans and thrusts harder. It’s painful in the most beautiful way. He tugs on my hair and bites me back on my lip, a possessive nip, and that’s my moment.
My body tightens in delight as the orgasm washes over me. Needed and welcome, I hold Tyler until he comes, too. He collapses on top of me, my name leaving him in a series of quiet whispers.
“My bitch,” he murmurs, turning his face to mine and kissing me.
“Your bitch,” I reply just as quietly, running my fingers through his hair.
He lets out a long breath and holds me tight to him. His heart is pounding in a relentlessly fast beat, the same as mine. I never want to move. I just want to stay here, in his arms, because I know that, in a few minutes, it’s going to get serious.
He doesn’t move either. Neither of us wants to tackle the bullshit no matter how badly we want to make this work.
“Come on,” he whispers. “Let’s snuggle and talk.”
I smile and let go reluctantly. Now my heart is pounding in apprehension, not happiness. “You know we have to tell each other everything, right? If we’re going to do this…a relationship— a real one—we have to have no secrets.” I swallow hard.
He helps me up and pushes some hair from my face. “Yes. I know. Both of us.”
I nod. “Can I go first? I mean… Before I chicken out.”
A small smirk tugs his mouth. “You usually do go first.”
I slap his arm. “Bastard.”
He laughs and gets up. Cocky fucker—but I’m no longer so scared. That small break in the tension is what I needed. What we both needed.
He pulls on his pants and I grab some shorts and a T-shirt from my room. When I come back out, Tyler hands me a cup of coffee and grabs his cup of tea. I smile as we settle on the sofa, facing each other, my legs hooked over his. He tugs the coffee table closer so we can reach from this position. Then he wraps his arms around me and links his fingers behind my back.
“Okay. Just…talk,” he says.
