As I collapsed into his hardness, my heart felt overfull. Desperate to turn this into something familiar, something sexual, I grabbed his wrist and sucked his wet fingers.
I swirled my tongue around his fingers like a cock, offering.
He shifted on the bed so that he lay flat, accepting.
I crawled—prowled, really—on my hands and knees between his legs. The tense arousal on his face made me feel sensual, powerful. There was a certain power to my role, that I could incite this man to lust. He pulled down his boxers, and, with his hands in my hair, slipped my mouth over his cock. That’d been the shortest power trip ever.
Down and up, he directed me. Steadily, inexorably forcing more of his smooth, hard skin into me. My focus narrowed to my senses, what I could see or taste or feel. Every time I lost my way, he brought me back with his fingers at my neck, a soft grunt or a tensing of his thighs beneath my hands.
It wasn’t about sucking cock. This was Colin guiding, and me yielding. Colin giving, and me receiving. Or was it the other way around? It didn’t matter, so long as it never ended. There was a certain urgency about him, more than a man wanting to come, and I answered it by taking him deeper.
Even as my jaw tired and my eyes watered, I felt his pleasure like it was my own. His labored breathing, his fingers tightening in my hair, the small thrust of his hips—I wanted it all. My fingers fumbled, wrapping around him, stroking him below, fondling delicate skin.
Suddenly he surged up. Next thing I knew I was on my back, knees bent, and Colin deep inside me.
I gasped, belated.
“Fuck,” he said.
He wrenched back, then fished a condom out of the nightstand. A few seconds respite and then he thrust back inside me. He was too deep to move. Too deep to breathe.
“Colin.” Pleas had never worked, but he stilled.
With his nostrils flaring and a light sheen of sweat on his face, Colin looked savage. “Hurt you?”
“No, I…”
He rocked against me slightly, straining. “You what?”
I want you. Don’t leave me. “Fuck me.”
He did.
And then I feel asleep, enfolded in thick arms, feeling like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.
Chapter Twelve
Sunlight beamed directly into my closed eyes, but how? Cheap vinyl blinds provided little relief, but my window backed up directly to the next apartment building. Besides which, it was coated in decades of goop.
My nose tickled. I took a deep breath and smelled—a man. Shit.
I snapped my eyes open. Chest hair. A familiar face. Ah, Colin. Safe. I shut my eyes again, fully intending to employ a fake-it-till-you-make-it approach to sleep.
The brightness pricked behind my eyelids. I peeked one eye open and glared at the big bay window with no curtains. This house needed a woman’s touch.
The night rushed back to me like the pop of a balloon. Well, damn. Looked like that was my job now.
Speaking of which, a certain piece of hot, hard flesh pressed into my hip.
Last night was the first time I hadn’t showered shortly after sex. I always had done so immediately after my date nights, even with Colin. Despite the fact that he’d used a condom, I felt surprisingly sticky—everywhere. I supposed it should be hot, the remains of sex, the morning after, but it was…awkward.
Naked, I slipped from Colin’s unconscious grip.
The bathroom held only the basics: a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo-conditioner, shaving supplies. The shiny surfaces shone, too clean for a bachelor’s place. Had he just moved in? That would explain the minimalist but catalog-perfect furniture and lack of decor. I made a mental note to ask him and decided he wouldn’t mind if I took a shower.
I stood under the spray and flipped the tap all the way to hot, relishing the biting cold that steeped into a blissful scald. As I lathered myself using the minty bar of soap, I heard a snick from the door and Colin’s voice. “Excuse me.” Excuse what? I peered around the shower curtain to see two pale, tight ass cheeks, then snatched the curtain back in place with a squeak.
Damn.
He was using the potty. No, the toilet. Fuck! I was an adult. It was called a toilet.
“You okay?” He sounded amused.
“I’m fine.” I clutched the soap, which slipped from my hands onto the tub with a thud.
“Sure?”
I picked up the soap. “Never better.”
“Can you move today?”
I dropped the soap again. “Fuck!”
“What?”
“Nothing. Ahhh, moving. Hmm…” To be honest I hadn’t been entirely sure we were doing that, or whether the whole thing had been some weird date dream. And I really hadn’t expected it so soon, but leave it to Colin to be expedient.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Can we talk about it later? I have to go in to work this afternoon.”
“About that,” he said.
I didn’t like his tone. I poked my head out of the shower. Colin leaned against the bathroom counter, somehow looking not at all silly while totally naked—and hard.
“I was thinking you could quit,” he said.