ripping into one of the foil packets. Smoothing the contents over his dick, he urged me back onto my hands. The head of his cock nudged my entrance, no preamble, no teasing, and he slid inside, inch by torturous inch.
It took everything I had not to shove my hips back at him, to take him in one swift thrust. When he was seated to the hilt, I was glad I’d been patient. After more than a year without sex, I needed to adjust.
His broken, jagged groan sent a shiver down my spine. “This one’s not going to last, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.”
Then he moved.
The fluttering started almost immediately, tiny ripples as he pushed in, pulled out, rolling his hips in a rough circle on the end of each thrust. Need rose and spiraled, threatening to consume me. In. Out. The air grew thick and heavy around us, closing in. The flutters slid into a constant pulse, and he groaned again, speeding up. I couldn’t breathe. My heart tripped and settled into a wild, uneven beat, the edge of orgasm rushing up as the pulse became a throb.
It wouldn’t last. It couldn't . Something this hot was meant to flare and consume and burn out fast, and I stretched toward that flame, wanting the devastation it promised.
With one last, vicious burst, I fell apart. I went blind, deaf, lost in my first release, true, tangible pleasure in more than a year. My arms gave out and I twisted my head to the side as I came down, Alex plunging hard once more and holding himself inside me, cursing as he came.
Boneless, damp with sweat, my legs began to shake. He pulled out and I winced. My legs gave out and I sprawled in an unattractive tangle of limbs in the center of the bed, watching through half-hooded eyes as he stumbled for the bathroom.
He returned a minute later carrying a glass of water. I managed to shift onto my side and sit up. “Please tell me that’s for me.”
He held up the glass. “What, this? Nah. You’ve got legs. You can get your own.” I poked my lower lip out, and he laughed, climbing onto the bed next to me. He handed over the water, and I drained half of it. He downed the rest, put the glass on the bedside table, then pulled me into his arms.
We lay back, and I molded myself to his side, my head on his chest, his heart thumping under my ear. “So tell me more about this perfect man.” His chest rumbled with the words, the vibrations rolling through me.
My breathing hitched in, and I swallowed hard. The click he’d spoken of had only gotten louder with the sex, to the point I had to strain to hear past it. I needed a wall. A barrier, to hold myself back, because clicks aside, I had to be sure what was between us had staying power. “Well,” I said, drawing the word out, “he’d be tall. Handsome. He’d have superb dragon slaying skills, and his horse would be a Pegasus. It’d be nice if the horse pooped rainbows, but it’s not a requirement.” He snorted. “He’d cook and shoo me out of the kitchen if I tried to help. He’d—” Alex’s hand had wandered down to palm my ass, stroking it possessively. Breathe. I needed to breathe. “He’d know my favorite color and my favorite movie without having to ask, and he’d let me control the remote.” I traced hearts over his chest. You. You're perfect. You're perfect and you scare the crap out of me but I don't want to let you go. Not yet.
He slid his hand so it was under my thigh, and shifted my leg up. “I stand corrected. The perfect man is a myth. You’ll just have to settle for mere humans.” I laughed, and he rolled us so fast the laugh ended on a gasp. “And we’ll have to find out the answers by asking the questions.” He propped himself up on his elbows. “Favorite movie?” He started kissing his way along the side of my face, pausing to nuzzle at the soft spot under my ear.
“ Thomas Crown Affair .” I splayed my hands over his back, tilting my head to give him better access. “The original, with Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway.”
He
It took everything I had not to shove my hips back at him, to take him in one swift thrust. When he was seated to the hilt, I was glad I’d been patient. After more than a year without sex, I needed to adjust.
His broken, jagged groan sent a shiver down my spine. “This one’s not going to last, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.”
Then he moved.
The fluttering started almost immediately, tiny ripples as he pushed in, pulled out, rolling his hips in a rough circle on the end of each thrust. Need rose and spiraled, threatening to consume me. In. Out. The air grew thick and heavy around us, closing in. The flutters slid into a constant pulse, and he groaned again, speeding up. I couldn’t breathe. My heart tripped and settled into a wild, uneven beat, the edge of orgasm rushing up as the pulse became a throb.
It wouldn’t last. It couldn't . Something this hot was meant to flare and consume and burn out fast, and I stretched toward that flame, wanting the devastation it promised.
With one last, vicious burst, I fell apart. I went blind, deaf, lost in my first release, true, tangible pleasure in more than a year. My arms gave out and I twisted my head to the side as I came down, Alex plunging hard once more and holding himself inside me, cursing as he came.
Boneless, damp with sweat, my legs began to shake. He pulled out and I winced. My legs gave out and I sprawled in an unattractive tangle of limbs in the center of the bed, watching through half-hooded eyes as he stumbled for the bathroom.
He returned a minute later carrying a glass of water. I managed to shift onto my side and sit up. “Please tell me that’s for me.”
He held up the glass. “What, this? Nah. You’ve got legs. You can get your own.” I poked my lower lip out, and he laughed, climbing onto the bed next to me. He handed over the water, and I drained half of it. He downed the rest, put the glass on the bedside table, then pulled me into his arms.
We lay back, and I molded myself to his side, my head on his chest, his heart thumping under my ear. “So tell me more about this perfect man.” His chest rumbled with the words, the vibrations rolling through me.
My breathing hitched in, and I swallowed hard. The click he’d spoken of had only gotten louder with the sex, to the point I had to strain to hear past it. I needed a wall. A barrier, to hold myself back, because clicks aside, I had to be sure what was between us had staying power. “Well,” I said, drawing the word out, “he’d be tall. Handsome. He’d have superb dragon slaying skills, and his horse would be a Pegasus. It’d be nice if the horse pooped rainbows, but it’s not a requirement.” He snorted. “He’d cook and shoo me out of the kitchen if I tried to help. He’d—” Alex’s hand had wandered down to palm my ass, stroking it possessively. Breathe. I needed to breathe. “He’d know my favorite color and my favorite movie without having to ask, and he’d let me control the remote.” I traced hearts over his chest. You. You're perfect. You're perfect and you scare the crap out of me but I don't want to let you go. Not yet.
He slid his hand so it was under my thigh, and shifted my leg up. “I stand corrected. The perfect man is a myth. You’ll just have to settle for mere humans.” I laughed, and he rolled us so fast the laugh ended on a gasp. “And we’ll have to find out the answers by asking the questions.” He propped himself up on his elbows. “Favorite movie?” He started kissing his way along the side of my face, pausing to nuzzle at the soft spot under my ear.
“ Thomas Crown Affair .” I splayed my hands over his back, tilting my head to give him better access. “The original, with Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway.”
He
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