he let himself get caught in what this place had meant to her for so long, the darker side, he’d approach this as something to get done quick, so he could get her out of here. Until they could change it, make it reflect what she wanted it to look like.
But while he was in the bathroom, he’d heard her thumping pillows, telling him she was shaking the dust out of them out on the back porch. Despite the dismal look of their surroundings, with the quilt on the bed and the front and back porch doors open, letting in the fresh air, the sound of birds, he could focus on what mattered.
She wanted to make this into their home. He’d prove to her that it could be done. He could help give her that, starting right now.
As he transferred himself onto the bed, she adjusted to make room for him. He stretched out and took her hand, guiding her so she was leaning over him. He put his hand on her hip beneath the shirt, stroking soft flesh. Her hair framed her face as she gazed at him, the soft ends tickling his stomach. He tugged the strands. “This is getting long. I might eventually be able to tie you up with it.”
The flicker of heat in her gaze brought back several recent, very good memories of things they’d done with rope. “You like it long,” she said.
“Yes, I do. But I’d love it short, or anywhere in between. As long as it’s on your head.”
He moved his touch up her side, having plenty of room under his shirt to find her small curves, the lines of her ribs, following them around to her back so he brought her down to him. He cupped her face with the other hand, brushed his mouth over hers. Kissed her deep and long before easing back.
“Why did you want my shirt?”
“To remind me of who I am now. Not who I was then.” A slight smile, tremulous. “To give me more courage.”
“You look damn good in it. And I’ve never met a braver person in my life.” He slid his touch down the front, found a puckered nipple beneath the fabric. Her breath drew in, those subtle signs of arousal that drew him in, made him want to give her less subtle ones. “Lie down on your back,” he said, low. “And open your legs for me.”
Her pupils darkened. She eased to her back, stretching out, keeping her hand on him, though she plucked at the shirt with the other hand. “Do you want me to take this off?”
“Yes. I’m going to cover you with me.”
Her eyes widened, but the brightness in her eyes, the eagerness, captivated him as she arched in a wonderful way to take the shirt off. He was already turning on his side, their bodies choreographed to one another’s movements. When she had it above her head, he gripped the shirt between her wrists, arresting her movement. He slid his other arm underneath her, keeping her in that arch as he descended upon her breast and took the nipple in his mouth, suckling deep.
A part moan, part cry was wrested from her throat, and she pressed herself more urgently to him. He kept her arms where they were with the pressure of his hand on the shirt, reveling in having her helpless like that, taking every bit of pleasure he could give her. His mouth moved over her nipples, her breasts, her sternum. Another time he’d enjoy what was between her legs, but she was aroused enough for where he wanted to go.
As he drew back to look at her, he opened his jeans, worked them off his hips. He pushed them down to his thighs one-handed, using his arm strength to lift his hips enough to manage it. When he took himself in hand, stroking, his cock responded quickly, telling him the prep he’d done in the bathroom was taking effect. He pulled the cock ring from the small pouch in his pocket, showing it to her before he dropped his hand down between her legs.
“Need you to slick this up some more for me.”
She let out a breath as he pushed the ring inside her opening, worked it in her wet heat while playing with her swollen flesh with his fingers. Then he withdrew his touch reluctantly, but only to slide the ring onto his cock, fitting it to the base.
He gave himself another several moments