My mouth dry, I licked my lips, wanting to see his cock, taste him.
He grabbed a condom from his wallet before kicking his pants to the side, stepping closer to me. I pulled his briefs down by the waistband, sucking in a sharp breath when his hard cock sprang free. I lowered my head, licking the precum before taking him deep.
His hips jerked as he lightly laid his hands on my shoulders as if to steady himself. My heart softened even more. His care, his concern, was breaking down any last barrier between us. When his cock touched at the back of my throat, I swallowed, gripping the base in my hand. I pulled back, circling the hard head of his cock with my tongue, before sucking him down again.
“If you keep doing that I won’t be able to stop—”
His cock bumped the back of my throat again. I swallowed, wanting him to lose control.
He gripped my shoulders, pulling me off of him, lightly pushing on my shoulder until I laid back on the bed, spreading my legs, aching for him to touch me.
“You’re so sexy.” He knelt on the bed, his hands running over my heels, my calves, up the back of my legs to my hips before pulling my thong down my thighs and off. His shoulders pushed my thighs impossibly wider.
“I want you inside me.”
“I will be.” Then his mouth was on my clit as he licked and sucked, his fingers slipping inside.
I lifted my hips, trying to get closer to his lips, his tongue. A climax was building again, slower and steadier than last time. My legs were quivering with need, my head rolling back and forth, my fingers tangled in his hair.
I was baring myself to him, physically and emotionally. This was more intimate than anything I’d ever done with another man. He could see inside me, the good and the bad, and he accepted me as I was. The realization stuck in my chest, threatening to burst. I moaned as the orgasm crescendoed over me, the pleasure filling my body, my mind, my heart.
He licked me through the pulsing, thrust through the clenching, until I was a mass of limbs on the bed, blissed-out on him. I watched him lazily as he ripped open the condom, smoothing it down his hard cock. He shifted on his knees, nudging my pussy with the head of his cock.
He raised his brow at me.
“I want you.” At every step of the way, I reaffirmed this is what I wanted. He was what I wanted.
He slid inside, bracing his hands on either side of me, the sense of being one with him surged through me, leaving me weak. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into the back of his thighs, my arms around his shoulders, as he inched deeper, bringing us impossibly closer.
I rarely fucked anyone in this position. Face-to-face was too intimate. I preferred doggy style, reverse cowgirl, any position where I wasn’t staring into a man’s eyes. It was easier to emotionally detach, but I didn’t want that with Griffin.
From the second he entered my apartment this evening, he’d demanded more of me than anyone else. He’d given me two orgasms, softening me for him, before sliding inside me in more ways than one. I knew after tonight, he’d be embedded in me no matter what happened. He’d settled under my skin, branding me, marking me as his.
His lips met mine, imitating the rhythm of his thrusts. I lost myself in his kiss, in each thrust, going deeper with each roll of his hips. I pulled him closer, wanting nothing separating us. I couldn’t get close enough to him. I wanted to crawl inside, never leaving.
All too soon, the familiar sensation built at the base of my spine, radiating out to my limbs, as my pussy clenched around him. A few more seconds and he followed me over, resting his head on the pillow next to mine.
“Was that okay?” he mumbled into my ear.
“It was more than okay.” A smile played on my lips. It was everything I’d never experienced and a promise of things to come. I wanted to say thank you for opening my eyes, for making me see how things could be different, but I tapped that down quick. Being more open with sex was one thing, admitting he was changing my perception on life is another. I’d given my body to him, but I couldn’t give myself fully to him, could I?
He lifted away, studying my face. I smiled at him before he kissed me once, twice, before shifting off the bed to the bathroom. My body was sore, aching, overheated. My head a jumble of emotions I couldn’t process, contentment, longing, and desire for more.
He slid into bed as I drifted in that place between wakefulness and sleep, unbuckling my heels and sliding them off. “Rest. I’m not done with you.”
He woke me sometime later, his mouth on my pussy, his hands cupping my ass, coaxing another long-drawn-out orgasm before entering me again. This time he flipped me to my stomach, pulling my hips up, pushing my shoulders down. Why did I think doggy style was less intimate? This position was more. His balls slapped against my pussy, his cock deeper than before. I was open to him, to whatever he wanted. I pushed back, meeting him thrust for thrust as he reached around to tweak my nipples.
Testing angles, he found that sweet spot as I reached back, grabbing his thigh to encourage him to keep hitting it. The pressure built as he slid his hand from my breast to my clit. He circled it with two fingers as I gasped from the overwhelming feelings coursing through me, desire, pleasure, need, want.
We climaxed within seconds of each other, his weight pressing me into the mattress. I relished in the aftermath, not wanting him to leave. I tensed, recognizing that feeling as dangerous. He pushed the hair off my neck, kissing my shoulder, my back, before easing off me to take care of the condom.
“I have to go. I want to be home in case Declan changes his mind about the sleepover. He’s coming home early tomorrow either way.”
I rolled to see the clock. It was late. “That’s fine.”
It was normal for a guy to leave after sex, my heart shouldn’t be longing for him to stay all night, hoping he’d wake me in the morning for another mind-blowing orgasm, sliding a plate of eggs he’d made across the counter at breakfast.
“It’s not fine.” His words were clipped as he lowered himself over me, his forearms braced on either side of my shoulders.
I smiled, his soft hair sifting through my fingers. “You have a boy to take care of. I understand.”
“I want to be with you all night.” The desire to stay was clear in the stiff set of his shoulders, the longing in his eyes.
“Me too.” That seemed to satisfy him as he kissed me briefly before pushing off the bed. He gathered his clothes, layering them on piece-by-piece. His hair was messy, his shirt wrinkled. Flashes of the evening came back to me, stirring something inside. Dislodging something dark and heavy from my chest.
I pushed back the emotion, the tears that threatened to fill my eyes. This is why I didn’t allow myself to feel. When I did, it was overwhelming, interfering with my good sense, my carefully constructed life, everything.
“Walk me to the door?”
I couldn’t resist his plea, pulling on the short silk kimono I kept on the back of my door.
After I’d tied the robe around my waist, Griffin’s hands settled on my shoulders, turning me to face him. “I wish I could stay.”
“Me too. Maybe another time.” I went up on tiptoe to kiss him before dropping back to my bare feet, leading him to my front door. He kissed me one last time, leaving me wanting more before leaving me in my usual state, alone.