My hands instinctively go to the back of his head.
This is insane. I haven’t touched him once, and he’s on his knees in front of me, completely dressed . . . having the time of his life.
His tongue finds a rhythm, and my body begins to move by itself, guiding his tongue just where.
I begin to shudder, and I close my eyes to try and block him out. He’s been touching me for all of four minutes, and I’m about to come . . . hold it.
My knees go weak, and I shudder against him, and I feel him smile into me. He laps me up and lays me on the bed. He arranges me how he wants me and spreads my legs open for his gaze. “So . . . fucking perfect,” he whispers to himself.
With urgency, he tears his shirt over his head and slides his jeans down. His cock hangs heavy and hard between his legs.
He’s so beautiful . . . the perfect male specimen.
I smile up at him, and then he goes to his pocket and takes out a condom. Uneasiness fills me. “What are you doing?”
“I want you more than once, and I don’t want to lose the sensitivity.”
I frown as I watch him roll it on . . . that’s weird; in the past he always made me roll them on him as if he was unable to.
He lies beside me on the bed and runs his fingers through my hair as he looks down at me. I can’t read him tonight at all. He seems . . . intense.
“You’re seeming very sentimental tonight, Mr. Miles,” I whisper.
“Maybe I am.”
I reach out and cup his face in my hand. He seems so lost. “Are you all right?”
“Tonight I am.” He leans down and kisses me, and I can feel the emotion behind it. It’s as if he’s channeling all his love through his lips, and I lose all coherent thought.
He lies over me, and our bodies take on an agenda of their own as they writhe together.
Our kiss turns frantic, and he lifts one of my legs and slides in deep. I feel the stretch of his possession; there’s no forgetting his size. It’s unapologetic.
We both moan in pleasure, and he slides out and slowly back in. I’m wet, so wet, and the sound of my arousal hangs in the air.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Emily,” he whispers as he loses control and slams in hard, knocking the air from my lungs.
And then we’re hard at it. The bed is hitting the wall with force; our eyes are locked on each other’s . . . silent . . . and in awe. This is a higher level of frequency.
Our bodies were made to fit together. We were made to fit together.
He screws up his face as if in pain. “I can’t hold it, babe,” he pants.
I smile. I love that he can’t hold it. “Let go,” I breathe against his lips. “We have all night. Give me everything.”
I roll over and feel the dull ache deep inside, and I wince.
Oh man . . . my body is wrecked.
Jameson Miles fucked me all night long. Hard and every which way, and today I’m going to pay for it. I turn toward him. He’s lying on his side, perched on his elbow, watching me. “Hi.” I smile softly, embarrassed by what he must have seen.
“Hi.” He leans in and kisses me before taking me in his arms and holding me tight.
“I’m sore,” I whisper.
“That makes two of us.” He smirks.
I close my eyes against his chest, and we lie in peaceful bliss for another half hour, dozing.
I get up to go to the bathroom and notice the trash can full of condoms . . . hmm, he wore condoms all night. I didn’t notice at the time.
I get back into bed beside him and snuggle back against his chest. “Why did you wear condoms last night?”
I feel his body stiffen beneath me, and I instantly know it was purposeful. He stays silent.
“Jim?” I frown as I sit up.
“Don’t.” He goes to pull me back down onto his chest. “Let’s just have a nice morning together.”
I stare at him. “Why would you wear condoms when I know how much you hate them?”
He exhales heavily as if annoyed and gets out of bed. “I don’t want any accidents.”
“What?”
He exhales heavily as if frustrated.
I sit up. “You think I would trap you by getting pregnant?”
He rolls his eyes.
“What the hell?” I