“Oh shit,” he groans, looking at me through heavily lidded eyes.
He kisses me once, twice, and then it begins. The most beautiful, erotic, and incredible sex I’ve ever had. It’s sexy and sensual. Our clothes rustling with each movement are evidence that our desire couldn’t wait another second. Our breaths tangle as the pleasure builds with each powerful stroke of his hips, and his lips, tongue, and teeth lavish attention on me.
The passion I feel for him is overwhelming. Flurries of sensations hit me over and over until my mind is a whirling mess of euphoria and rapture. When he reaches a hand between our bodies and circles it on the sensitive bundle of nerves, my orgasm hits me full force, an intense wave of pleasure and ecstasy. My body shatters, fracturing off into a million pieces. My hips buck up against his, and my teeth clamp down onto his shoulder as I moan his name. My internal muscles ripple around his cock, and that seems to send him over the edge, too, because he thrusts just a couple more times before he lets out a low groan and presses his face into the side of my neck. His whole body goes rigid before he sinks down on top of me.
We lie there like that for a couple of minutes, wrapped in each other as we catch our breaths. I can’t temper my exhilaration. I’m still floating on a cloud of bliss.
Finally, he pulls back a little and smiles down at me. “That was my first legit Netflix and chill experience,” he jokes, his fingers gently stroking the hair at my temple.
I laugh. “Mine too.”
His sweaty body is slick against mine, and my hand unconsciously curls around his belt, holding him against me as he goes to pull away.
“No, don’t get off yet,” I whine, greedy for more of his touch. I don’t want this connection to end yet—or ever. I want to live on this sofa with him, Netflix-and-chilling our life away.
He leans down and kisses me one more time before pushing himself up to his knees, my death grip on him having little to no effect. My body instantly misses the luxurious weight of him on top of me, and I frown and let out a sound like an angry cat.
“I have to go flush this,” he explains, chuckling as he reaches down and tugs off the condom in one easy motion.
As he stands, he shoots me a smug smile that tells me he knows exactly how much I enjoyed myself. I sit up, now a little self-conscious of how exposed I am and push my skirt down my jelly-like thighs. When I reach for my discarded jumper, he bends and picks it up, passing it to me with a wink that sets my tummy fluttering all over again.
“Thanks. The bathroom is that one.” I point to the door and right myself on the sofa, tugging my jumper over my head.
After a couple of minutes, he flushes the chain and comes out of the bathroom. He’s fastened a couple of his shirt buttons, but it still hangs open enough to tease me with his tanned, toned skin and the V that leads down into his trousers, like an arrow pointing down to the good stuff. His eyes meet mine, and his head cocks to the side as he leans against the wall, watching me.
“So, I’ve got a breakfast meeting at six thirty tomorrow. I should probably get to bed,” he says, reaching up and brushing a hand through his already-messy hair.
My mouth falls open, and my stomach drops as I realise what he means. He’s leaving. He used me for sex. And now, he’s leaving, and I’ll likely never see him again.
The disappointment and sadness feel like a punch to the boob.
I school my features and force a smile when I see his eyes narrow and his eyebrows pull together in a little frown.
I stand and dismissively wave my hand, as if my heart isn’t breaking inside. “Right. Yeah, of course.” I can feel my eyes prickle with devastated tears, so I look away from him and grab the TV remote, turning off the end of the movie. “I’ll just put these in the kitchen, and then I’ll show you out.” I pick up the used plates and empty pizza box and walk to the kitchen as quickly as I can, my eyes firmly on the carpet.
I hear him step up behind me as I push the empty box onto the counter and put the plates in the sink. I take a deep breath, trying to contain my emotions. I can’t show him I’m hurting over this. I’ve been through this before—used and then discarded—but never by someone I cared about like this.
Embarrassed heat burns my cheeks and neck. Why did I do that? Dammit, why didn’t I listen to Heather’s fishing metaphors?
“Look, I never do that. I’m not a sex-on-the-second-date kind of girl.” I scowl down at the counter, turning angry now, not at him—he’s a guy, and that’s what guys do—but at myself.
“I get that vibe from you, yeah.”
I gulp and nod, but words don’t come, so I push away from the counter and am about to walk past him when his arm stretches out, blocking the exit, forcing me to stop.
“Amy, I think you’re misunderstanding what I said. When I said I should go to bed, I was hoping you’d ask me to stay the night. I didn’t mean I wanted to leave.”
My mouth pops open in shock, and I finally look up at his face to see his gorgeous brown eyes latched on to mine. He steps closer to me, his arm still trapping me against the counter.
“You … you want to stay the night?” My words trip over each other on the way out.
He steps even closer, his scent filling my nose as his eyes smoulder sexily down at me, one corner of his mouth twitching with a smile. “Yes, I want to stay the night. Because that, what just happened”—he nods over his shoulder towards the sofa—“wasn’t even nearly all the things I want to do to you tonight.” His voice is so husky and seductive that it sends a shiver down my spine. His body presses against mine as he reaches up and twirls a lock of my hair around one finger. “I want you naked. I want to feel you come on my tongue while your thighs shake around my head. I want to watch you lose control.”
“Holy hell, Jared,” I whisper. “Dirty talk? I like it.” I’m panting now, my nipples pebbling against the lace of my bra.
He leans forward, his nose brushing down the side of mine before he plants a little kiss on the edge of my jaw. “Can I stay?” he whispers.
“Please. God, yes. Stay.”
He chuckles, his hot breath tickling down my neck. My stomach clenches as my hands fist his shirt, pulling him closer to me. His mouth finds mine, and my insides explode with delight as I grin against his lips.
I step back, taking his hand and guiding him through my flat, turning off lights on the way. He checks the front door is locked as we pass it, and I smile at the thoughtfulness of him.
When we get to my bedroom, he stops in the doorway, watching as I head to the bed and fumble for the switch on the lamp, flicking it on to bathe us in a gentle yellow hue.
I hear a soft chuckle and look over to see he’s grinning behind me.
“Not exactly the sexiest bedding I’ve ever seen, but we’ll make it work.”
I groan with realisation. “I didn’t think you’d be staying over.”
He saunters over to me, his fingers already working on his shirt buttons and cufflinks as we both look over at the Game of Thrones Not Today duvet set on my bed.
When our eyes meet again, his darken, his lids drooping sultrily. “Take off your jumper and skirt. I’ll do the rest.”
My eyes widen at the command.
Hot. Demanding. Masterful. Fuck.