wanted to stay in bed with him.
No. She couldn't.
It would be a bad decision on her part to stay in bed. He'd start to believe he could have sex whenever he wanted without stepping up and treating her like his old lady.
Being intimate with him always came with consequences. He'd only started to hang around her after a long absence, and now that she was working for him, having sex with him again would make things unbearable between them.
He slipped his fingers into the crack of her butt, trailed his hand down, and hooked the back of her upper thigh, pulling her fully on top of him.
The hardness that teased her hip now stood at attention, trapped between them. She gazed into Curley's dark eyes. The smoldering look told her what was coming next, and she wouldn't deny him any part of it.
He was her man, even though she never got the benefits.
Curley brought her head down and captured her lips. The roughness of his beard early in the morning curled her toes and widened her knees until she straddled him.
As if his cock knew the direction to go, the tip danced impatiently at the entrance of her pussy. She moved until the slight pressure of his size slid inside of her.
His hand squeezed her ass, and he pressed his head into the pillow, breaking the kiss. "I need a condom."
"I'm on the pill." She lowered her lips, taking his mouth.
The second he slipped her the tongue, his breathing deepened. She had many reasons to tell him to stop, and the excuses avoided her brain at the moment.
Her breasts, pressed against his chest, arched in pleasure. She fumbled with where to touch him, wanting to have her hands all over, but desperately palmed his head to hold him close. The close shave on his head days ago already left his scalp as soft as the fur on a puppy. The velvety smoothness a stark contrast to the hardness emanating from him everywhere else.
Curley lifted her pelvis and put her down on him. His cock slid through her wetness, filling her completely. Her mouth came off him. He propped her up so that she sat, straddling his hips and taking his whole length.
His shadowy stare trapped her. She panted, wanting much more than sex. Afraid he'd never give her more. It'd taken him years to be with her, and she had no idea where they were going. He could walk out of her house afterward, and she'd go through losing him again.
But she worked for him now. He'd have to see her.
He reached forward and palmed her thighs, rubbing her legs from knees to hip. "You're holding back."
She inhaled a trembling breath. "I don't know what you're thinking. What this means to you."
"What's it mean to you?"
She hated when he refused to answer and, in return, asked another question, expecting her to reply...knowing she would. It was hard enough to think coherent thoughts with him inside her body and her arousal distracting her.
That's why she said, "I'm scared you're going to break my heart again."
He flinched, his gaze narrowing. Not giving her any hint about what was going on with him, he lifted her off him.
She plopped down on the mattress, dazed at the loss of him. Unprepared, she found herself pushed over until she was face down on the mattress.
Curley got behind her on the bed and lifted her hips. His hand landed on her upper back, pushing her upper body down. She turned her head, getting the blanket out of her face and fisted the sheet.
She moaned, taken by surprise at him thrusting into her pussy from behind. Before she could gain her next breath, he pounded into her.
Her heart beat wildly, threatening to burst out of her chest. The force of how he took her left no room for her to guess how he felt about her.
He showed her through sex what he refused to say.
Then, to her surprise, his words came as he relentlessly gave her every inch of himself. Over and over.
"I've always wanted you." He grunted, plunging hard enough her knees came up off the bed, and she was solely in his hands. "You're mine."
"But you're not mine." She panted. "You won't let yourself be."
She moaned, held hostage by her body's reaction to him. Her breasts, heavy and pressed against the mattress, ached for his touch.
He made her a gasping, needy mess. She bit her lower lip, expecting each thrust. Waiting for each thrust. Desperate