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His mouth is on mine in two seconds flat. I reach for the buttons on his shirt. It takes me a small eternity to work the first two through their buttonholes because my hands are shaking so badly. Frustrated, I tear the shirt open. Buttons fly everywhere.
“I’m sure that was expensive.” I lick into his mouth. “I’ll replace it.”
His lips are soft, hot, as they pull at mine. “No you won’t. Got plenty.”
He reaches over his head for the collar of his undershirt. Breaking our kiss, he pulls the undershirt over his head in one obscenely sexy move. I reach for his fly and he lets me unzip it. Together we push his pants and briefs down, releasing his hard cock.
His head presses shamelessly against my belly, slick with pre-cum. Riley moans at the contact.
I push him onto the bed, where he kicks off his pants.
“Finally.” I climb on top of him, reaching down between us to wrap my hand around his dick. Meeting his eyes, I lean in and lick his head. “I’m going to miss the way you taste.”
I’m using his words against him. Judging by the way his lips twitch, even as the sinews in his neck draw tight, he knows it.
“Then fuckin’ stay, honey. Please,” he says.
Something catches in my chest. A feeling that closely resembles regret.
I grab onto it with both hands. Well, I grab onto him. I pump his dick once, twice, before guiding it into my mouth. Riley hisses, the rude sound making my nipples pebble to hardened points.
“That mouth,” he growls, putting a hand on the back of my head. “You gonna let me fuck it, honey?”
I take him deeper in reply.
“Aw, yeah.” He lifts his hips at the same time he presses my head down. It’s a gentle thrust, but he still hits the soft tissue at the back of my throat, making my eyes water. I don’t pull back. “That’s it. Jesus Christ, Lu.”
The combination of being in control yet being at Riley’s mercy is the most delicious mind fuck there is. I pump my hand in time to the movement of my head, drawing him in, letting him out.
His chest heaves. Hips jerk up and then jerk back down. I take the opportunity to swirl my tongue over the slit in his head.
“Stop.” His fingers flex in my hair, pulling it. “There’s no way I’m not comin’ inside you.”
Next thing I know he’s pulling out of my mouth and flipping me onto my back. He glides a hand up my side, cupping my breast, and then settles his broad body between my legs.
My body throbs. Riley’s mouth is on my collarbone. My neck. My lips.
He lines himself up at my entrance. The pressure is exquisite, and exquisitely maddening. He pauses there. I wait.
Wait some more.
I only realize my eyes are closed again when I open them. Riley is sweeping his gaze over my face. I can’t read the expression there. Pain? Need?
Love?
My chest contracts at the same moment he pushes inside me. Being full of him makes the fullness in me spill over. Something tender and terrifying spreads through me as he sinks to the hilt on a long, luxurious thrust. Eyes still on mine, he takes my hand and tangles our fingers. He draws our joined hands over my head, using the position to deepen the angle.
Rocking his hips, he pulls out, pushes back in. The thrust is careful but not at all neat. The feel of his body working over mine, the interplay between how his muscles release on the down thrust, tense on the up, is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
My pussy contracts. He draws his eyebrows together, a furrow appearing between them like he’s concentrating.
Holding on for dear life.
I can relate.
My pulse thunders in my ears. I slide a hand down to my pussy and roll my fingers over my clit. Electricity crackles inside my skin. My fingers work faster. Frantic and messy.
Riley captures my gasp in a kiss. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Ever.” He thrusts, also frantic and messy, the kind that makes my breasts bounce and my breath catch. “Change.”
Lights.
Out.
I come, the joy inside my chest obliterating everything else. Riley comes too, but somehow still manages to kiss away my cries, drinking deeply of my mouth as I sink into the sensation of how good it feels to pulse around his length.
How good it feels to be held by him. Cared for by him.
Loved by him.
We don’t sleep much.
An hour here and there, maybe, in between all the times we make love. Because that’s what this is now. It’s not fucking. It’s not even sex. It’s so much more than that.
The sun is up when he lifts my top leg and rubs his dick over my clit. We’re on our sides, my back to his front, and just as he makes me come, he slips inside me from behind.
