He pulled my legs up at the knees until they were tucked against his sides and he kept slamming into me, one of my arms wrapped around his back, the other hand in his hair.
We weren’t kissing and I heard our noises drifting around us, his low, deep grunts mingled with my softer whimpers. His face was in my neck and he was groaning there, breathing hard. My face was in his neck and I was moaning there, breathing hard and alternately tasting him and even (no kidding!) biting the flesh at his shoulder.
Then, all of a sudden, he stopped moving, his body buried in mine.
“Jesus, f**k, Sadie,” he muttered in my neck. “Fuck,” he repeated, his arms going tight. “Give me a second.”
I was blinking, rapidly, surprised that he stopped and wanting the movement, the pounding, even our noises back.
“For what?” I asked.
His mouth came to my ear and he whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I closed my eyes and my arms went tight.
“You aren’t hurting me,” I promised, I squeezed him with my thighs (and other parts of me besides) and I heard him make a noise low in his throat. The noise spurred me to coax, “Keep going.”
“Hang on,” Hector murmured, still fighting for control even as he ground deeper (which felt good, good enough for me to remember that I wanted more).
It was my turn to make a low noise in my throat then I repeated, “Keep going.”
“Sadie –” he started but my arm moved, my hand went to his fantastic behind, the fingers of my other hand fisted in his hair. My movements made his head come up and I pressed my lips to his.
“Hector, please,” I whispered, my voice a mixture of begging and demanding, “Please… fuck me.”
I watched his eyes grow dark then his head slanted, his mouth took mine in another wet, hungry kiss and he did as I asked, wild and rough, until, minutes later, almost at the same time, we both exploded.
It was hard and hot and so overpowering, I moaned deep into his mouth as my body convulsed beneath his.
It took what seemed like forever to come down, tremors coursing through me as I concentrated on Hector, his body still pressing into mine, his breathing on my neck, going slowly from heavy to soft.
His weight bore down on me and I realized, to my surprise, that after the intensity of what we just shared, I felt even more snugly, warm, safe and comfy than I ever had before when I was with him (which was to say, ever in my life).
And, obviously, that was saying something.
That was, I felt more snugly, warm, safe and comfy until he spoke, his voice deep, husky and utterly satisfied.
“This is who I wanted to find, the girl from that night. I knew she was f**kin’ in there, I just didn’t know I’d have her this soon.”
It felt like he’d shoved an icicle in my heart.
No.
Please.
No.
That was not me.
There were loads of Sadies but that wasn’t one of them.
Was it?
A brazen hussy, throwing myself at him and begging him to f**k me?
The Society Slut who went slumming?
Did he think that was me?