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I want to watch him while we do this, and if I’m on my back, I’ll close my eyes to relax into it. That won’t do. “Sit up.”
He does, and I crawl onto his lap, facing him. Once I’m straddled on top, I hang onto his thick shoulders for balance and ease myself onto his cock. He holds onto my ass, but doesn’t push or pull me there. Just holds. He’s being so gentle and sweet about everything that it makes me want to wreck him.
Slowly, my body reminds me. Even though I’ve been resting, my body aches from the stress of everything I’ve been through, and somehow, that’s made me tighter than usual. His proud steel feels so good inside of me, and I’m only halfway down. But when he pulls me in for a kiss, I lose my restraint entirely. Anderson wraps me in his arms, and his warmth takes me over. Then he slowly rocks himself in me, brushing against my G spot on every motion. I growl into his mouth, and that only spurs him on.
Soon, he groans against my lip, and I feel him pulse inside of me. I love that I can make him feel good. I feel strong from it. Powerful. Like I’m not helpless anymore. I know he treated me like I was fragile because, for a while there, I was. But right now, it’s like he trusts me to handle things. Like I’m not about to break. And because he believes it, so do I.
I sit back to look at him, and his eyes rake all over my breasts and my face, like he’s not sure where he wants to focus. So, I pull his hands from my ass to my tits, and his thumbs brush over my nipples while I ride him. He bites his bottom lip. Concentrating? Fascinated? I can’t tell. But I like that look on him. Hell, I like every look on him.
I like everything about Anderson.
It’s scary to think about, but I can’t stop. There’s no reason for me to think of him in a permanent capacity in my life, but how many other people can say they’ve been a constant presence? How many people have pushed me as hard as he has? How many people know me as well as he does? No one. With Anderson, I can be utterly myself without hesitation, and I really like that.
Even now, in the throes of passion, I’m not self-conscious or embarrassed by any of it. Not like other guys, when I worried about looking sexy or fucking like a porn star while we were going at it. My fake moans and expressions are a thing of the past. Anderson likes everything I’m doing. The proof is throbbing inside of me.
And I like everything he’s doing.
He again pulls me tighter to him, and I can feel his heartbeat through our bodies. It’s beating almost as fast as my own. At this angle, he digs against my spot harder, and the heat coils in me. When the drop hits, I come with a roar, thrashing on him until I can’t move anymore. But instead of going harder at me so he can come, Anderson just holds me until I catch my breath.
When I do, I look into his eyes, and I don’t know what to say or think, as if I am capable of words or thought. This man is all there is in the world right now, and he looks at me the same way.
Anderson runs his thumb along my bottom lip and quietly asks, “Are you okay?”
My lips curve into a smile. “I can breathe again, if that’s what you mean.”
He softly chuckles. “We can stop, if you like.”
“Why would we do that?”
“I don’t want to push. You’ve been through?—"
I kiss him to shut him up. “No more of that. Not right now. Just you, and me, and this.”
He smirks slyly. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He scoops his hands beneath my ass and stands, scaring the bejeezus out of me.
“What are you doing?” I squeak out.
“Better position.” He turns around and sets me onto the edge of the couch, before kneeling between my feet and spreading my thighs wide. Then he yanks me to him to get just the right angle to penetrate me again.
I’m smooshed into the couch, but I don’t even care. Especially not when he reaches down and circles my clit as he thrusts. “Oh my god, yes!”
“You like when I touch you and bury myself deep, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
“I can feel it,” he groans. “When I hit the right spot, you clench onto me. You’re addictive, June.”
I whimper and drive myself to meet his thrusts. I’m too impatient to wait for the next one, and I can’t sit still. Not when it feels this fucking good.
But then he slows down and lays onto me. His head rests on my breasts, and he makes short thrusts like he can’t hold still. It lights me up. I run my fingers through his hair, adjusting to the new angle. He doesn’t hit as deep, but the head of his cock stays on my spot, and every little thrust is enough to ring my bell. When I come, it’s smaller, but it triggers another. Feels like I’m a pinball machine. One orgasm bounces into another. I can hardly breathe between them other than to moan.
He rasps, “You mean everything to me, baby.”
“You too,” I pant out.
He groans, “I want this. Every day. All the time.”
“Yes!” I whimper as I come yet again.
