His breath gusts over my cheeks on a pained laugh. “It’s not like I need them in here, Jones.” He tilts his head and kisses me at a different angle, all open mouth and wet. When he talks again, it’s a thick whisper. “I’d have left them at your house, but it seemed presumptuous.”
God, I even love the way he murmurs ‘presumptuous’ against my mouth. My lips vibrate with it, and I lick them, before licking his. I’m so hot, so turned on, I can’t stand it. I’m so empty it hurts. “Forget the condom,” I say in a strangled voice. “Just… just fuck me.”
A tremor lights over him, and I feel the head of his cock twitch. Honey-brown eyes stare down at me. “You sure?”
We both know it’s a matter of believing each other when we say we’re clean, and trusting that we’re exclusive, of Drew trusting me when I say that I’m on the pill. Do I trust him? Yes. Am I nervous? Hell yes.
I swallow hard, resisting the temptation to move. “Unless you don’t want to?” I won’t hold it against him if he wants a condom. Never. I start to tell him that when he replies.
His answer is a kiss, a dirty-sexy, wet fuck of my mouth, as he thrusts his cock in deep. That thick invasion, it fills me up, makes me gasp.
“Holy hell.” He groans. “You feel so good.” And then he’s pumping, groaning low as he moves. My focus narrows to the smell of his skin, the feel of him pushing in and pulling out of my swollen sex, the near helpless sounds he makes with each thrust.
His thumb finds the tight bead of my nipple and rolls it. Combined with the way he licks along the inside of my upper lip, the simple action is almost indecent. It shakes me to the core.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp into his mouth.
An orgasm steals over me, not with violence, but a slow, swelling wash of heat that has me shivering and whimpering into his open mouth. I’m weak with it, my arms falling limp at my sides as it takes me.
“That’s it,” he whispers against my lips. “Let it ride.” He cups my cheek, his hand big, warm, solid, as he watches me come undone, his eyes burning.
Helpless, I grab hold of his hair, as another roll of sensation hits me.
“Drew. I...” I can’t breathe. “I need…” You.
“I know,” he says as if hearing my silent plea. “I know.”
He captures my hand, forcing me to stay with him as he plucks my nipple and grinds his hips. I’m at the precipice when he loses control. A shudder runs over him and then he levers himself up on his arms and pounds into me. Flesh slaps against flesh. The impact makes my hipbones ache. I’m so wet, so messy wet, that every sound is magnified. And I love it.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he rasps, moving his hips with a swivel, raw and greedy, like he’s rutting against me, and my world goes dark and violent with lust. I’m coming again, the sensation punching into me, making me arch up, my hips chasing his, my hands clawing at the hard swells of his shoulders.
Drew lets go with a long, low groan, and a flood of warmth fills me up.
For a moment we lay quiet, Drew curled around me, his cheek against mine, the corners of our lips touching as we pant. Slowly, I come back to myself, aware of his fingers stroking my shoulder and the pulse of his cock within me.
It’s so quiet that when he whispers in my ear, my whole body shivers from the sound. “You’ve destroyed me, Anna Jones.”
I know exactly what he means, because he’s destroyed me too.
BENEATH THE COVERS where it’s warm and quiet, we can’t stop touching each other. Nothing obvious, just small caresses. A stroke of a finger along a shoulder, a tickle down an arm, a brush of lips across a temple. We face, Drew’s arm snakes under my neck and wraps around my shoulders, holding me close enough that we share the same air, our legs threaded together in a hot tangle. I don’t want to move. I want to keep my hand where it rests upon his sweat-damp chest and feel his heart’s steady rhythm. I want rest. I feel like I’ve been running forever, and I don’t know why or from what.