feel of him as he thrusts into me mercilessly. The slapping sound fueling me, I lift my hips to meet his. He grips my hair with his fist as he drives into me and I moan at the sting and the reward of his fucking. Lifting his T-shirt, I run my hands over his muscled chest as he gazes down at me, his eyes lava, his heart pounding against my palm.
“Damn…you…” he grunts, picking up his pace, “you are so much trouble.”
Filled to the brink, I fumble to get his shirt off and he discards it with ease. Free to roam, I take in every detail, the timber of his grunts, the feel of his skin, every nuance of his build and lock my legs around him, meeting his hips before tossing my head back. He’s deep, so deep. I can only hold onto him and allow myself to be ravaged. He consumes me wholly, with his scent, his face, his body, his cock. He pushes my crooked thigh against the seat, diving deeper and I scream his name as he goes feral, his hips picking up at an unimaginable pace as he burns through me.
I blink and his hand dips between us, his fingers kneading my clit as he pounds his cock along my walls, lifting and angling himself just so. The orgasm sneaks up and I explode, the entirety of my body shuddering with release as he drives in once, twice and comes, his jaw slack, eyes firing emerald in the soft light of the cabin. I run my fingers along his biceps as he gazes down at me, wordless. His golden smile returns before he covers me in a soft kiss, his fingers loosening their grip on my hair and I’m lifted from the seat by the sweep of his arm and brought to his chest.
“That escalated quickly,” he says with a chuckle.
“Mmhmm,” I murmur, hearing the fatigue in my voice.
“We have a problem,” he mumbles into my neck, as I massage his sweat slickened shoulders.
“What’s that?” I ask, unbelieving I let it, no, willed it to go that far.
He lifts his head, peering up at me where I gather myself in his lap. “I only had that one condom.”
“We have all the time in the world, right?” He nods into my shoulder, a haunted hint shadowing his eyes when they meet mine.
“Right.”
“What’s wrong?” His gaze clears and he shakes his head, his shoulders going lax.
“Nothing,” he strokes my skin, cupping my breasts, “nothing at all,” he repeats, before claiming my mouth possessively. In his claiming kiss, I get lost.
LAUNDRY.
For the past fifteen minutes, that’s what Sean and I have been sorting. And not just Sean’s laundry, but Tyler and Dominic’s as well.
“Is there a reason we’re washing your roommate’s clothes too?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s their laundry, that’s why.”
“You do shit for your friends, right?”
“Yeah, like picking up the dinner check once in a while or painting their nails. I don’t spray and wash their thongs.”
“This is better.”
“How so?”
“Because who likes doing laundry?”
I do. I like doing laundry, because of Sean. He makes menial tasks a hell of a lot more fun, especially when he runs his crotch along mine where I sit perched atop a washer, leaving me wanton, wondering if it was purposeful before his lips lift.
Bastard.
He plays mind games with me all the time, which keeps me on my toes. A lot of the time it’s wordplay, most of the time sexual suggestion I would miss if I wasn’t paying attention. But I don’t miss it, because Sean edges me, constantly, sometimes to the point of tears, until I’m begging.
He’s a bit of a sadist, and I love it.
Every part of the last week has felt like the honeymoon phase of our relationship, or whatever this is. I haven’t spent much time thinking about it because he’s given me no reason to worry. Though he’s shit at phone conversations, rarely ever keeping his phone on him, leaving my texts unanswered for hours, we spend most of our now time together.
He loads coins into the slots as I glance around the rundown room full of battered machines. “You do have a laundry room at home, right?”
“Your point?”
“Just saying, you guys probably would save money, in the long run, buying used machines off the web or something.”
He locks his strong arms around me and leans in, running his nose along mine. His sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, a heather grey T-shirt stretches along his