My hips ground upward as his slipped up, his cock sliding up my slick cleft, dragging a pained sound from both of us before his lips claimed mine again.
Harder.
Hungrier.
Losing control.
His weight shifted, one arm balancing some of it, the rest crushing into me as his other hand moved out, opened the nightstand drawer, shifted around inside, then came back, bracing again for a moment as his teeth bit into my lower lip, drawing a half-pained, half-pleased sound from me that had him pulling back, pressing back, reaching to protect us, then looking down at me, eyes molten. His breath was ragged, expanding his chest wider, making his abs contract.
"Rush," I said after a moment, my hand moving out, tentatively touching his hip, seeming to pull him out of the trance he seemed to be stuck in.
His body came back over mine, his hand reaching down, grabbing my thigh, wrapping my leg around his hip as he braced on one arm.
His hips shifted as his gaze found mine.
I felt him press against me for the barest of seconds before he plunged deep, dragging a surprised moan out of me as my walls stretched around him, feeling him fill me completely.
Rush's forehead pressed to mine as he took a breath so deep his body shook.
"Fuck," he hissed, taking another couple of breaths before pressing back to look down at me, eyes heavily hooded.
"Rush, please," I begged, my hips writhing, needing a release of the painful pressure building inside.
"Love it when you beg, baby," he declared, sliding out then thrusting back in.
Slow, tentative for a couple moments, but losing any semblance of control as quickly as I was losing it.
My fingers scraped down his back.
My hips rose to meet his thrusts as they got harder, faster, driving us both upward fast.
His low sounds mixed with my rising moans.
The bed joined in, creaking as Rush fucked me harder, faster, slamming my head back into the soft, tufted headboard.
His arm moved under my shoulders, holding his weight as his hand slid between our bodies, working my clit as his thrusts got faster still, even more desperate, struggling to hold onto the last few threads of control.
"Come, baby," he demanded, forehead pressing to mine, his thrusts getting shorter, staying planted deep.
His cock surged forward, my hips rolled, and his finger slipped over my clit at the exact right time, making the orgasm slam through my system, crying out his name before it stole my voice once again, yanked me under its depths as the waves kept crashing through my body.
"Fuck, yes," Rush growled, hand moving out from between my legs, arm bracing, as he thrust hard through it before slamming deep, body jolting hard as he came, growling out my name.
His weight came fully down on me for a long couple of moments as Rush struggled to bring some order back into his body.
I hadn't been able to breathe anyway, so I didn't much mind the weight as my arms and legs wrapped him up, held him closer as my heartbeat slowly returned to normal, as my mind cleared of the after-effects of the orgasm.
Rush's head turned slightly, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck before planting his arms, taking his weight back, pushing up enough to look down on me.
"That was worth the wait," he told me, a satisfied little smirk toying at his lips. I couldn't fault him for it, either. He'd earned it. "I'll be right back," he added, sliding out of me, off of me, then the bed entirely, walking toward the door, then moving off into the hall.
Alone, with the lack of his body heat on me, a shiver coursed through me as goosebumps prickled up all over my skin, making me scramble up the bed, sliding under the blankets up to my shoulders.
"Don't hide," Rush said, walking back into the room, naked and completely unbothered by that fact, his head tipped to the side a bit.
"Not hiding," I insisted, shifting to the side so he could climb in with me, feeling a delicious ache in my inner thighs. "Just cold," I told him.
"Let's see what I can do about that," he offered, hooking an arm around me, yanking me up onto his chest, his warmth sending a shiver through me. "Better?" he asked when I settled, his warmth on my front, the heavy comforter on my back. It was pure heaven, truth be told.
"Perfect," I told him, because it was, because I didn't care if he knew I felt that way.
"Good," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "How's your head?" he asked, tone light, teasing, even. "Might have knocked it around more than I intended to," he added.
"Well, I owe the author of that book a debt of gratitude for the headboard idea. I'd probably have a concussion if not for her," I said back, teasing, happy. God, yes, happy. That was the warm sensation blooming across my chest. It had been so long since I felt it that I almost didn't recognize it when it showed back up. But there it was. Strong. Undeniable.
A chuckle moved through Rush and into me as his fingers started to absentmindedly touch me—one stroking up and down my spine, the other my arm. "I meant for that to be nice and sweet," he admitted. "It's not my fault you like my dick too much for that," he added, hand landing a weak slap to my ass.
I didn't like being teased. It had always been a triggering point for my anxiety. Especially with men.
But, somehow, I felt myself smiling at Rush's words.
Because he was safe. Because I knew he would never be cruel, would never use my fears or insecurities against me.
"I should get going," I said a few moments later, feeling a swirling sadness inside at the very idea of untangling myself from him, getting dressed, walking away.
"You're not going anywhere," he told me, arm going around my hips, imprisoning me.
"I have to work tomorrow," I reminded him.
"Fuck work."
"Fiona might not agree with that mindset."
"Fiona set all this in motion. She will have to deal with the consequences of me needing to take you to bed for a week straight until neither of us have any fluids or strength left."
A giggle moved through me at the absurdity of that statement, but it made that warm sensation feel even hotter.
"You have work too."
"Stop making valid points," he demanded, tugging my hair. "We're staying just like this tonight," he added, shrugging. "Maybe we both ended up with food poisoning from dinner," he suggested.
"I just got back from being sick," I reminded him.
"Fiona can't be mad at your terrible immune system," he declared, making another laugh escape me.
"She will know why I called out."
"So what. She'll be busy collecting her money from Mark. She won't be too pissed about it."
"You make some interesting points," I relented. "Not good ones," I added, getting a chuckle out of him, "but I'm too tired to rebut them."
"Good," he declared, giving me a squeeze. "You can use your brain tomorrow," he suggested.
"Sounds like a plan," I agreed.
Normally, the longer I lay there, the more the worries would set in, the to-do list that would keep racking up, but right then, in that moment, my mind miraculously left me alone, allowed me to enjoy the feel of this man, the sensations flooding my body, the possibilities in front of us, with none of the usual fears.