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His sigh felt decades old, parched and stale, coming from ancient forgotten disappointments, and let go before he understood the danger.
“Tom?”
“You might have broken me.”
She nipped his chin. “Don’t joke.”
Pushed so he would stop thinking. Scalded so he could be comforted. Broken so he could safely risk. Hollowed out so nothing else mattered but satisfying himself with the sound and touch and thrill of her. The only danger was having the time to take his fill.
“Gonna need to do that again before I have a definitive opinion.”
“I don’t need a second opinion to know the earth moved.”
So that’s what happened. He’d gone deep, struck the molten core, caught fire and walked out alive. “It’s a miracle.”
She put her teeth to his neck, but he felt her laughter and echoed it. He half expected colors to be brighter, the air more refreshing. It felt like he’d woken from a deep sleep after a long period with a vague illness that’d left him lacking in energy and confused.
Good sex had never made him feel that taken apart and put back together before.
Flick played her fingers through his hair, not minding it was damp. “I loved that and I don’t think you hate me for baiting you into it.”
“No such emotion as hate.”
She laughed. “You’re drunk.”
He pulled her harder against him. “Best post-orgasmic haze ever.” Kissed her bottom lip, then remembered. “Jesus, tell me it’s not a wet towel.”
“Fresh from the washer-dryer.”
She yelped when he pinched her ass. When he turned her over and soothed that spot with his tongue, she squirmed. He had a reason to squirm too. He’d gotten too carried away. “I got tested. I’m clean. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.” He’d done it because it was the sensible thing to do. That’s what he’d told himself at the time. Probably not his motivation if he thought about it.
“You told me.”
Had he? Not directly. “I wouldn’t have risked you.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
She’d risked him. He eased her to a kneeling position, her ass on his thighs, her back against his chest. “How did you know I needed it like that?”
She turned her face up to him. “Because I needed it like that.”
It was too simple an answer, too greedy, when Flick had been the one to push, to give. A cupped breast, a rubbed tit, a press of his middle finger inside her, and he got the truth.
“I wanted you to get the same thing from good sex I do. Wanted you to stop being so polite about it and live in it.”
“Arrogant.”
“Yes.” Her head clonked on his shoulder.
“You’re less than half my size. How were you not worried I’d hurt you if I lost myself?”
She palmed his cheek. “That’s a real concern with you?” He nodded, and that made her frown. “You knew this was a game. Maybe not before I started dropping clothing, but you knew and you almost stopped it. Losing yourself in pleasure isn’t about being mindless and out of control. You’re one of the most disciplined people I know. If I’d said stop, if I’d been uncomfortable, you’d have stopped, Tom. I know it, even if you don’t.”
It was a nice idea. Wished he felt secure in it. He wasn’t sorry this’d happened. But it changed them. “What does this make us now?”
“Landlord and roommate with extracurricular activities on the side. You cook and fuck like a god. I try to stay tidy and be your fuck goddess. We get to have a good time before we go our separate ways.”
