I took a hold of her full hips, and she laughed and then gripped the base of my shaft. Then she lowered herself, centimeter by centimeter, the warm, tight tug of her closing around me even better than I remembered. With a low grunt, she rested atop me, me buried to the hilt. Not an inch separated us, and between the feel of her comforting weight atop me, her warm pussy pulsing around me, I had the fleeting thought I’d found home.
But instead of focusing on that, I let myself fall into the sensations of her above me, listened to her breaths, responded with my own. She snaked her arms around my neck, pressed her face against mine, her sweat-slicked skin, the warm crush of her breasts against my chest both adding even more sensation. And then, our bodies locked, I rocked my hips wildly, tempo increasing as she spun out of control.
When she stilled above me and cried out her release on a husky moan, I pulled her even closer, my cock solid as stone as I filled the latex, wishing there was nothing between us.
Six
Esther
“Get dressed,” he said as he rolled out of bed. “I’m hungry.”
“That was the most romantic dinner”—I looked at the clock—“breakfast invitation I’ve ever gotten,” I said, still lying in bed watching him.
“This isn’t about the romance,” he said as he stepped into his pants.
“You’re right about that,” I said as I eyed him, letting my gaze stroke his body, following the swirling ink that decorated his skin over his chest, down his tight abdomen, lower until it ended and trailed into the darker hair that nestled around the base of his soft but still impressive cock.
And then he turned his back, but not before he flashed a wicked grin. The back view was as good as the front, equally inked, equally muscled, equally arousing. And then that was gone too, hidden underneath a tight T-shirt.
Dressed now, he stalked toward me and then lifted me out of my bed, sheets and all.
“Sorin!” I said, giggling like a schoolgirl as he set me on my feet.
I looked up at him, his smiling eyes, his soft expression making me feel as light as a feather.
“Hurry,” he said as he handed me the clothes he’d grabbed off the floor. I dressed quickly, feeling flushed, and not from Sorin’s lovemaking, though the climaxes he’d coaxed—no, demanded—still had my bones quivering. But instead of thinking of the source of the feeling, I dressed and headed to the foyer where he waited.
“You don’t want to drive?” I asked after I’d locked the door and followed him down the porch stairs.
“It’s a nice night. Let’s walk.”
“It’s after midnight, Sorin. And it’s dark out. Dangerous,” I said, falling into step with him.
“Good thing I have you to protect me,” he replied, flashing me another quick smile.
I laughed, somewhat surprised by Sorin’s display of wit, something I suspected he tried to keep under wraps, and then we walked in silence, the neighborhood dark, quiet, and Sorin apparently not feeling the need to chatter.
It was nice, being with him, easy, much easier than I wanted to acknowledge. So I didn’t and instead glanced at him surreptitiously, taking in the angles and planes of his face, strong jaw looking chiseled out of stone.
“You keep looking at me like that, and I am going to have to fuck you again. And then I won’t get my breakfast,” he said.
“It might be worth it,” I replied.
He didn’t look at me, but I saw the corner of his mouth lift. “It might be. But food first.”
He turned the corner and headed toward the all-night diner.
“What?” he asked moments later after the waitress set a plate in front of him and he’d taken a few bites.
“Ketchup on your eggs? That’s gross, dude,” I said, wrinkling my nose before I took a sip of my coffee.
Other than a faint grunt, he ignored me and continued to eat, the near silence of the diner only enhancing that calm, companionable warmth I suddenly felt.
He wiped his mouth and then dropped his napkin, the motion much more mannered than I’d anticipated from him, almost courtly in fact. “I’ve had my breakfast, Esther,” he said on a husky whisper.
A shiver raced through me at the unsaid implication in his words.
“So you have,” I replied.
I stood and prepared to leave.
I tried to play it cool, not be anxious, but I was fast becoming addicted to him, and though it had been so little time since we were last together, I wanted him again. Desperately.
I exited the restaurant and headed down the block. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Better hurry.”
He made no attempt to speed up, and instead said, “You’ll wait for me.”