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“Pull the lace to the side,” he commands once I’m settled against the pillows. “Keep your eyes open.”
I do my best to heed his command, but my eyelids are heavy with arousal and need for this man.
“Make yourself wet.”
I continue to bite the corner of my bottom lip.
“Naughty girl,” he says. “Already wet, then?”
I dip my head in a nod as I spread my legs wider, feeling emboldened by the way he reaches behind the open zipper of his jeans and grips his cock.
Sliding my finger down my clit, I lift my eyes to his. Flashes of what we did last night and this morning threaten to make me lose control before he even passes the toy over to me, but then I realize…
“We don’t have condoms.”
I told him I didn’t have any at my house. I don’t ever bring anyone home. After buying the sex toy, I haven’t even bothered to waste my time with men. That thing gets me off in like a minute, and then I can go back to my life. I don’t have to worry about rumors or pleasing anyone else, so I haven’t had to be prepared to entertain anyone in a very long time.
Pulling his hand from his jeans, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a strip of three condoms, holding it out in front of him.
“Where in the world did you get those?”
We were together the entire day.
“I got them from one of my teammates when you went into the restroom.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal to ask a buddy for condoms.
My chest heats in after-the-fact embarrassment.
“Don’t stop,” he snaps when I go to pull my hand from between my legs.
Instead of climbing on the bed and turning on the toy, he casually drops it to the floor and shoves his jeans down.
“I’ll get acquainted with your little friend another time,” he growls, reaching for my ankles and tugging me to him.
I squeal with delight as he positions me exactly where he wants me. With the same level of skill he had last night, he has one of the condom wrappers open, and he’s rolling the latex down his swollen length all in the same breath.
“Need you,” he says as he bends his knees and lines up right at the center of me.
Instead of slamming inside of me, he eases in, his mouth slightly open, his eyes locked on our connection.
It’s somehow better than anything I’ve ever felt before, and my legs shake. Pressing against the backs of my thighs, he repositions my body, my ass slightly lifted from the bed, and the skilled scooping action of his hips has his cockhead hitting me right in the perfect spot. Forget about that damn toy, he’s going to get me off in less than a minute.
“So fucking good,” he praises. I wish I could respond, but the pleasure is keen and I’m left speechless and a little spaced out.
It’s utter perfection, the way he knows exactly what I need.
“Oh,” is all I can manage when he presses the palm of his hand against my lower belly. The pressure is fantastic, but then he adds his thumb into the mix. Keeping my eyes open like he insisted I do only minutes ago is impossible.
With my back arching off the bed, my body convulses around his cock. Breathing seems to be too much trouble, so I just hold my breath, my mouth hanging open in awe as I come.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeats, his hips picking up speed. “Fucking voodoo. Swear to God.”
His neck muscles flex as the sound of skin hitting skin swarms around us. I want to tease him about his declaration that I’m a screamer because he fucked me silent, but then he’s going over the edge. It’s possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen before in my life. My pussy spasms once again around him, as if celebrating the opportunity to make him feel good.
He presses into me, pulling out just as quickly until he’s fully spent. When he lifts his eyes to mine, it’s as if he’s in some sort of trance, his head shaking slightly back and forth as if he doesn’t fully understand what’s happening.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting up and reaching for him when he slips free of me and takes a step backward.
Last night was fun. Today was eye-opening. But I swear if he pulls the “I’ve gotta go, post-nut regret” bullshit with me, I may use his own gun to shoot him, in the leg—not anything serious or life threatening.
When he grins, I shove down those impulsive thoughts, knowing that my exhaustion makes it harder for my meds to work.
“Everything is perfect,” he tells me, closing the distance and bending to press his lips to mine. “I’m serious about that toy. It comes with us tomorrow.”
