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I don’t exactly have anything I need to do today. The fib slipped out readily to save us both from the awkward song and dance. We share a best friend, and we kind of work together. Those two reasons should be enough to step back and think twice about our next moves.
But if he’s willing to push all that aside for another round (or two) of mind-blowing fornication, then who am I to become a modest Puritan and say no?
“If you keep standing there naked, I’m coming over to you.” Nathan whips the covers from his waist and sits on the edge of the bed, revealing he also hasn’t regained one iota of modesty. This could be detrimental for our working relationship because I have a feeling it’ll be impossible not to picture him naked going forward.
However, that worry can wait. Patience running thin, he stands and stalks me like his prey.
Challenge accepted.
Cocking my right hip, I cup one hand over my slender waist and invite him closer by crooking my finger with the other one.
The skin around his eyes tightens, and his nostrils flare as he mutters, “Fuck.”
His powerful lunge closes the space between us, but I’m ready for him. As he grabs my waist, I lower my center of gravity, swipe my leg around one of his, and take him out at the ankle. A shriek erupts from my lips as elation takes over. He falls to his other side on the carpet, dragging me down with him, and I scramble to straddle his waist to maintain the upper hand.
Grinning down at him, I cup my unclothed crotch hovering over his hips. “If you want it, you have to get it.”
We’re a tangle of limbs, tickling fingers, and grabbing hands. The playful nature of my game rapidly declines into one of arousal and touching and tastes. Giggles yield to moans of pleasure as Nathan tries to maneuver and buck me into a different position. His wandering fingers are abrasive across my nipples, and his palms are unyielding on my hips.
He bucks beneath me, the thickness of his dick rubs through my arousal enough to awaken the nerves but not enough to enter me. I shiver and shake with his motions, holding onto my grit. I refuse to give in so easily. This little game of foreplay started with me, and I’m determined to finish it. Whichever way that happens, we’ll both come out on top.
My resolve holds until his nimble fingers dig into my hipbone and send me into a raucous fit of giggles. I can’t maintain my position through the uproarious laughter, and Nathan uses his moment of distraction to simultaneously buck and lift, sending me flying into the air.
Squeals in anticipation of the impact pierce the otherwise quiet morning. Yanking me against his solid chest, he cradles me against his pecs, folds my flailing arms in, and rolls me to my back, all before I have even a second to react. His torso slides down mine, big hands pin my elbows to my sides, and his mouth attacks the apex of my thighs.
Game. Over.
With each swipe of his tongue, I surrender. I don’t even fight back. My energy’s spent from the hangover and pretending to struggle. I turn limp. My knees fall open as though I’m in the stirrups on my gynecologist’s exam table, and unintelligible sounds fall from my lips.
“Please don’t stop,” I whine, gripping my own breast and tugging at my nipple.
His growl vibrates against my core as he witnesses the action, spurring him to plunge his tongue inside me double the tempo from seconds before.
Thrusting my hips harder against his face, I whimper and arch my back. His tongue disappears, leaving me insistent and triggering a needy cry to fall from my lips.
“Give it to me, Kiersten,” Nathan croons, replacing his tongue with two thick fingers as his mouth suctions my clit.
After only one night together, this man knows. He plays my body like a prized instrument, and within seconds, my orgasm rolls through me. Before my chest finishes heaving, he centers himself above my body and adroitly guides himself inside.
We groan together at the intrusion. Aftershocks lick my core as he stretches his way in, and I arch my neck against the hard floor. His forehead collides with the center of my sweaty chest as he thrusts deep. Our rhythm turns impatient. I don’t know if we both realize this will be the last time, but we fuck like it is.
“You feel incredible,” he grunts, clutching my right thigh and drawing it higher around him. Dragging my ass into his lap, he seats himself deep and sits back on his heels.
“Touch me,” I order, gasping when he immediately complies, his thumb going right to the spot I need him most if I have any hope of getting there a second time.
“Yes!” I prop myself on an elbow and trail my fingers up his shoulder. The hair is damp at his neck, and I grip the sweaty strands while swiveling my hips.
“Get there,” he orders tersely.
“Yes, sir,” I moan. The words leave my lips as everything tightens and steals the sarcasm from my tone as I come.
“God, yes.” He wildly ruts his own release and throbs deep inside me. Seconds pass where he lies motionless with his face tucked into my chest. The heaving of his back is the sole indication of life.
Should I ask him to move, or continue to bask in his warm weight and dewy-kissed skin touching mine?
Before a verdict becomes clear, he abruptly pulls back, hooks me around the back of the head, and takes me with him until I’m vertical in his lap. My choppy golden hair flies wildly behind me, and I clutch his shoulders for balance. His lips meld to mine in another searing kiss. He pulls back to deliver a sharp nip to the bottom lip before he dives back into my mouth.
Nathan wrenches away and rests his forehead against mine. “You should take your pill.”
