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His hands reached out, gathering my hair, and moving it out of the way, so he could watch as my lips closed around the head of his cock.
His lips bucked up as my tongue traced over him. A little shiver coursed through him as I moved down his length, sucking him deep.
His hips rocked restlessly up into my mouth as I worked him. His groans and gasps spurred me on.
I had no intention of stopping.
But then his hands were pulling until his cock slipped from my mouth, until he had me over him again, his lips locking mine.
His hand moved to the nightstand, grabbing a condom, and then reaching between us to slide it on.
“Take me in,” he demanded, voice rough.
I did, sighing as he filled me.
I sat back, looking down at him, seeing the same sort of wonder-filled rightness in his eyes as I felt in my heart, in my soul.
Eyes at half-mast, Wells’s hips rocked gently up into me, coaxing me to move, to ride him.
Slow at first, but faster as the need grew.
“Wells…” I moaned, feeling his hand find mine, fingers squeezing just as the orgasm crashed through my system.
I fell forward into his chest, crying out my release into his neck.
When I came down, though, I found him still hard inside of me.
Hooking an arm around me, he rolled me onto my back, and started to thrust.
Slow and deep at first, then harder and faster as my whimpers became moans, as he drove me up once again.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned into my ear as my legs wrapped around him, my hips rising to meet his thrusts.
My moans rose, filling the room as he drove me right through an orgasm that seemed to overtake me completely.
“Fuck,” Wells groaned. “Fuck, yeah, baby,” he hissed in my ear, pounding into me until his body tensed as he came with me.
His familiar weight pressed down on me, and I wrapped him up with my arms and legs, holding him to me as our hearts and breathing slowed again.
Wells rolled onto his side, but I wouldn’t release him, so I rolled with him, my face nestled in his neck.
“Hey, Wells?” I called some time later, stuck somewhere in that space between sleep and wakefulness, a space where my guards were down, and my heart was open.
“Yeah?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“I know it’s too soon,” I said, snuggling in tighter, feeling his warmth envelop me. “But I think I love you.”
His hand paused in its path down my spine.
“Think?” he asked, voice soft.
“No, not think,” I conceded. “I do. I love you,” I told him.
“That’s convenient. I love you too,” he said.
I was pretty sure I would never get sick of that warm feeling that spread through my chest at the sound of those words from his lips.
Luckily for me, I would get to spend the rest of my life putting that theory to the test.
