Sweet Ache

And this time he holds absolutely nothing back. He draws every last ounce of desire from me as his tongue meets mine, leading this intimate dance with skill and passion that has every part of my body lit aflame and begging for him to hurry the pace and sink into me. Even though I know the minute it’s over I’ll wish he dragged it out.

His knees find their way between mine and push my legs slowly apart while his mouth continues to tempt me in every way possible. A hand cups my breast before sliding farther down my body, each inch feeling like it’s taking forever to cover on the way to where I want it the most.

And he kisses away the moan he coaxes from me when his fingers find me open and waiting for him. Gentle yet demanding touches on the most sensitized of flesh. I lift my hips up, physically begging him to sate the desire burning out of control within me. The motion earns me a chuckle against my lips, and the head of his dick lines up perfectly at my wetness. His fingers part me, dipping in to test my readiness for him, and I pulse my muscles around his fingers to show him I’m more than ready.

His mouth brands mine, one last searing kiss that cements emotions I shouldn’t be feeling before he pushes up on his haunches like a pagan god between my thighs waiting to worship, but the only thing I’m allowing him to devote himself to is me.

He pushes into me, that slow burn of stretching as my body accommodates him the most exquisite of pain. He looks down, hands holding my thighs apart, eyes expressing the unspoken words behind his mask of arrogance, and lips falling lax as he succumbs to my wet heat. We hold each other’s gazes as he begins to move, and I can see so many things flicker within his eyes. The pace he sets is slow at first. His thick crest slides over nerves I never knew I had and brings me unfathomable pleasure.

I close my eyes when the sensations become too intense, my feelings too transparent, but every time I open them back up, his eyes glisten through the darkness. I become mesmerized with the look, the feel, the subtle sounds he makes as he sheaths himself root to top before pulling back out.

I lose myself to the feeling, to the moment, and allow it all to wash over me. Yes this is casual sex, chemistry igniting between two willing people, but the way he takes his time and yet takes what he wants simultaneously is an intoxicating spell I willingly submit to.

He slides his hands down my inner thighs, fingertips adding friction to my clit, propelling me closer to the edge. “Hawke.” His name is a sigh on my lips as I buck my hips up to meet his fingers and the rhythm of his thrusts.

Sounds fill the room—my plea, his praise, our combined moans, as he works us into a frenzied pace where the simple touch of flesh to flesh feels like two live wires connecting. Sparks trace from where we become one and chase their way through my body, digging in and taking hold, annihilating any hope I have from walking away from him unscathed.

My hands fist sheets and then move up to score lines into the muscles of his thighs before sliding back to the sheets again—restless movements that try to satisfy the desire unfurling within me and between us. My legs begin to tense, my muscles clutching around him so that he knows I’m nearing my peak.

Just when I want him to drive harder and faster—force me into the oblivion just beyond my reach, he slows down. My head snaps up to challenge him just in time to see the ecstasy written on his face when he slides all the way in and pops his hips in some way that needs to be patented and taught to men everywhere because whatever the hell he does, when he does it a few more times, I’m lost.

I fall under the warm rapture of my orgasm as it hits me with a savage intensity. I don’t know what I say or do because I’m hidden behind the veil of white-hot pleasure that is so overwhelming all I can do is feel: the satisfying singe of his touch, the stroke of his cock over sensitized nerves, the ricochet of the orgasm as it pulses through my body. And then Hawkin begins to move again, withdrawing and plunging back in, in a fervent pace that not only prolongs my climax but pulls his from him like a tornado touching down.

“Fuck!” he cries out, his hips jerking spasmodically as he chases his release, driving as deep as he can into me, fingers digging into my thighs, my name falling from his lips.

He leans forward, crawling up my body, mattress dipping at my sides as he presses his hands there before collapsing softly on top of me with a satisfied groan. “Damn, woman,” he says, warm lips pressing tender kisses against the chilled skin of my chest as our panting breaths fill the silence of the room. “You wore me out!” His chuckle rings with warmth and satisfaction and vibrates into me from our connection.

My fingers trace up and down his back, the flush and scent of the sex we just had still clinging to my skin. “Well shit … then you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to handle Trixie,” I tease, earning a quick graze of his teeth on my nipple in response.

I wiggle away from him, laughter falling around us as he slips out of me, the emptiness ringing loudly despite his hands still touching me. “Oh.” He grunts out the sound. “I’m going to have so much fun playing with her.”

We laugh as I find a pillow beneath my head and his lips pressing against mine, tongue slipping between them in a slow, tantalizing kiss that cements what we just experienced. I groan in protest when he pulls back, but I love the look he graces me with, eyes hazy and a smirk softening his features.

“Silly boy,” I murmur, bringing my hands up the sides of his torso, feeling the muscles bunch beneath them as I go. “Trixie’s for men.” I can’t resist the taunt—the play off the cereal commercial—because he sure as hell just proved to me he’s a one hundred percent skilled man but I need to keep this simple. The way he’s touching me and not rolling over and snoring like so many others have done is making this moment a bit too intimate for me, making it a bit too real. And hell yes, I’ll take something real but I also know that with the real comes the heartbreak that’s inevitable and so I defuse the feelings from finding permanence with humor.