Trust - Page 95

The lube. His breaths. My dick being held firm against his opening.

He could kill me now and I would have died happy.

Pressure. My hands jerking. Him thrusting into my grip. His mouth running a steady stream of words that I failed to even register. And then he was…one hundred percent…properly…fucking me. Or I was fucking him…

All I knew was that my hands gripped his hips as he slammed onto me.

“Do you like it?” His voice seemed to come from miles away.

“Yes,” I roared.

Then he got off again, leaving me to whine over the loss of him.

“Come on,” he demanded. “Fuck me.”

Somehow, I figured out what he meant as he threw himself on his back and offered himself up to me, his legs landing on my shoulders, his back fully curled up so I could reach. He stroked his length, slow, seductive movements as I grabbed my sticky condom-clad mess of a dick and pushed. I didn’t dare look. All I went on was his breaths, the pressure around me. I had to move closer so I could get all the way in.

Comfortably.

Dangerously.

Good.

Addictive AF.

“Just move. You won’t hurt me,” he panted out.

I opened my eyes and took him in, splayed out with all that skin on display. Pale, hard nipples, his eyes closed and his neck exposed as another moan escaped his mouth.

I pushed in. Groaned in pleasure. Pulled out and did it again as he sang with me.

“Harder.”

“Harder, I can do.”

It was probably like a complicated choreography, and I had lost all control now, diving down so I could suck his neck, biting his shoulder as my cock pistoned in and out of him. His leg had fallen to the sides, and I had no idea how I was holding it together, with his hands firmly on my arse, telling me to just go for it. Harder. Faster.

My eyes having lost all focus, I had to close them.

My mouth finally found his. Breaths against breaths. We weren’t even kissing, just existing in a moment that never seemed to end.

One. More. Thrust.

His fist against my stomach, pumping spasm after spasm out of the body underneath me as I…I couldn’t even think. Nothing. Darkness and silence though my throat ached with the sounds coming out of it. Sounds I couldn’t hear.

Sex.

Okay.

My body seemed to find its way back to the light, and it felt like I’d been gone for hours as I lay there on top of him, the long, firm strokes down my back grounding me.

I didn’t realise at first, but he was singing. A low hum against my cheek.

“I love you.” Shit. Did I?

“I know,” he replied in a voice that still felt like singing. A low hum. Soothing. “Was that okay?”

I giggled softly and tried to move my limbs. Everything felt stiff yet mellow. Other than the cold, wet patch on the sheet under my thigh as I flopped down beside him. Ugh.