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She pulled on his neck, so they were mouth to mouth. “You are impossibly sweet.”
“That’s a fucking lie.” He used the other hand to grab her lovely arse. “I want to do rude things to you.”
“I want you to do rude things to me. I want to do them right back.”
Rules established. That’s what they were doing here then. He backed her into the next room towards the big sectional sofa and then changed his mind and took her hand and led her upstairs to his bedroom. Mindless lust was fun, and he’d had a lot of that in his life and intended to again, but there was something new and thrilling about being with Mena that made him want the luxury of comfort too.
No sharp edges or rough fabrics, no awkward angles or bruising contact, nothing too cold or hot or sticky, or inclined to make you move away from each other too soon. No distractions, just Mena and the things he could do to make her feel good.
For right now at least. Because he did intend to take her draped over the hard, cold lid of his piano, and mess around with her wet and steamy in the hot tub.
They made it to the bed in a stumbling arrangement of entwined limbs, kisses and laughter. And then it got serious. That zipper came down. Mena’s bra came off to show her glittering nipples. She did very nice things with her hand on his cock and she looked gorgeous doing them. When he couldn’t take her teasing anymore, he flipped her to her back and got those silky knickers off her. They were damp. Fucking excellent. He tucked them in his back pocket. They were his now. She had no further need for them.
He got her to moan and gasp with his fingers. He made her come with tongue and his lips and then finally his jeans and his briefs came off and the paradise of Mena’s vagina opened to him, hot and soft and slick and close.
She was all the fires of the revolution and all the bumblebees in the hive and he played her body into a thrashing frenzy of pleasure edging on the threshold of pain, and when she fell apart beneath him, he dissolved in her, made of little but sinew and sweat.
The rest of him, those remaining brain cells still flickering, were flashing out distress signals while his heart thudded with hope. This was a big deal.
All the confusion and doubt of the last twenty-four hours lifted away, and in its place, settled a certainty that felt strong. He’d learn Mena. He’d figure out how to make her happy, naked and clothed, and keep doing that for as long as she’d tolerate him.
This could be his life.
Later.
Now he cuddled her while their breathing settled, and their bones reformed, and he watched for the glow of all of this to show in her face.
He traced a finger down her cheek. “There it is.”
“What?”
“You get this look on your face when you’ve been properly fucked.”
Her brows lifted. “Properly?”
“All the way from quivering with anticipation to could not move if you were on fire.”
“The way you do it?”
He polished his knuckles on his chest. “Perfectionism has its uses.”
They both made cringe faces and she said, “And what is this look you’re talking about?”
“You glow. Like you’re totally comfortable in your skin and at peace with the absurdity of the world.” He kissed her forehead. “Like your happiness is a fortress and nothing can touch it.”
“Oh, Grip.” He heard something like awe in her voice. She pushed his shoulder, so he rolled to his back where she could prop up on his chest. “How is it that I forget you’re an artist. When you say things like that you take my breath away.”
That could be good, right? “I’m cool with that.” Super cool, if he could be the only one who got to make her glow, who made her boneless and breathless and got to do it as often as possible.
She put her teeth to his chest and scored him gently. “You’re like the bubbles in champagne, you go straight to my head and make me forget what time it is, what day, what my damn name is.”
“I’m cool with that too.”
“You’re a wild ride is what you are.”
He slapped a hand on her arse, more noise than impact. “I don’t hear you complaining.”
“I’m not. I tried to stay away. It’s why I ran out of my own house rather than wake you to say goodbye. It’s why I didn’t call. I shouldn’t be here now.”
