be consumed by flames right now, combusting from the inside out until I was a pile of ash in front of him.
He crawls into bed next to me, and I move back to make room for him. He doesn’t let me move too far though. He pulls me to him. His whole body shakes in wild tremors that seep into my skin until I’m gripping him, hoping I can make us both stop.
“I just tore apart your rooms,” he breathes. “I destroyed everything inside it. I thought you’d finally had enough and left. I thought you walked away like I told you to. I thought—”
I tighten my grip, my head resting against his thumping chest. “I told you I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I pushed you away. I think I was trying to provoke you.”
“You’ll have to do a hell of a lot more than that to push me away, Johnny Marx.”
Like the masochist I am, Johnny pulls me back under his spell. He feathers kisses over my hair, his hand gripping my head to his chest is almost painful, but I understand the need to be close. He wants me near. Closer than this even. If he could, he’d probably consume me.
As for me, I’d rather wipe away the mess that happened between us earlier. The old him crept in. I have no doubt it’ll happen again as he struggles internally with what he’s learned his whole life and what he knows now, but he can restrain it.
“Babe,” he breathes. “I need you.”
He winds his hand under my shirt, reaching up to palm my breast over my sports bra. He teases my nipple until it peaks at his touch.
I lean on my forearm at the same time he does, meeting in the middle as we kiss each other greedily. Bruising, punishing kisses that I have no doubt he doesn’t mean, but have me yanking his shirt off his shoulders and my fingers shaking as they work on the clasp of his suit bottoms.
He takes my hand and puts it on his hard cock right through the thin material. He pumps his hips forward, gasping in my mouth. I give him a quick squeeze before I’m tugging his pants and boxers down to free his cock.
He does the same with my leggings until they’re just past my knees before I swing my leg over to line up our bodies. He grips my hip, and I lower on top of him with a low moan.
With a hand on either side of my legs, he moves my leggings down until he can tug them off. My panties are a little harder, and I’m fairly sure he tears them in the process, but within thirty seconds, I have room to move over him just like we desperately need.
He lifts his ass, spearing me, and I cry out. He grins, and it’s hot as fuck as he maneuvers his suit pants down. I help him shimmy them off when I realize what he’s doing. We kind of went about this all wrong. Usually, you undress before you start fucking, but this is what it’s like when you just want to feel someone inside you right this fucking second.
I whip my shirt off next while moving over him. He runs his hands up my body, palming both breasts, teasing the edge of the cup where it meets my skin.
“Show me you want this as much as me,” he pleads.
I place my hands on his chiseled abs and ride him. I ride him straight into an orgasm that curls my toes. I fucking love this position. The friction on my clit. The view of him as he watches me fuck him. It’s everything.
He grabs a hold of the bottom band of my bra, yanking me forward, pulling my panting body down. He reaches behind me, unclasping the bra hooks in the back, and I’m so thankful I use the best of the best bras and not just the flimsy sports bras other women wear. It’s not because I have huge breasts, it’s because I don’t want them bouncing around when I train, but they’re also useful for easier access in moments like this.
He pulls the straps down my arms and tosses the fabric to the floor as he sits up, changing the angle. “Oh, fuck,” I breathe.
He lifts his hips, and we grind against each other, kissing like our lives depend on it. Like his lips are the only thing giving me oxygen to breathe and