“Oh, fuck. FUCK.” She knotted her fingers in his hair as her orgasm ripped through her. He lifted his head to watch her, his fingers still pumping inside her. It felt like she would never stop coming, a new wave of delicious sensations pulsing through her as soon as the last ones subsided.
Her head flopped back onto the bed, her limbs jelly. She felt Ethan remove his fingers, and she turned her head to tell him she needed a minute to recover before they continued. He met her eyes and slowly brought his fingers, the ones that had been inside her, to his lips, and sucked, his gaze heating her from head to toe.
Never mind. She was good to go.
“Condom,” she breathed, her voice weak. He rolled off the bed and found the bag on the floor, ripping open the packaging. He disposed of his drawers quickly and began to roll the condom onto his slightly intimidating erection, which was twitching and straining toward his navel.
She watched him, basking in her postorgasmic haze. He was fucking perfect. And he was hers.
Only until Monday, a tiny voice in her head reminded her. However, that voice was easy to push aside as he crawled back on top of her, settling between her thighs. He braced his body over hers on one forearm, jerking a little as she reached down and guided him into place. They both gasped when the blunt head of his cock nudged against her entrance.
He rocked his hips slowly, easing into her an inch, then two. A whimper escaped the back of her throat.
“Wait,” he choked, veins bulging in his forehead.
“What?” she cried out, louder than she’d intended.
“Maybe…this isn’t a good idea,” he gulped. “What if we get too…what if we want to keep doing this after…”
Grey let out an animal groan, digging her nails into his bicep in frustration. Her words tumbled out breathy and fast.
“Ethan, the time to have this conversation is not when you’re literally in the process of entering me. It’s gonna be fine. I hate you, that was the worst orgasm of my life, whatever you need to hear right now to make you feel okay about—ohh!”
The end of her sentence transformed into a moan as Ethan gripped her hip and slammed the rest of the way inside her, accompanied by a sound that seemed torn from deep in his chest.
They were both speechless then. He froze, his breathing shallow. She could feel his heart racing against her. His eyes were closed, jaw tense. She reached up to touch his face, and he flinched.
“Are you okay?” she murmured. He nodded jerkily.
“Just need a second. Before I, um.” He exhaled shakily, laughing a little. “I told you, it’s been…a long time. And…you feel really fucking good.”
She stilled underneath him. She was grateful for a moment to catch her breath, too; the feeling of him inside her, stretching her out, filling her to the hilt, was almost too much to bear.
Eventually, he began to move, agonizingly slowly at first. She couldn’t tell if she wanted him to slow down or speed up, every roll of his hips sending seismic waves of pleasure through her, each one building on the last. Her mind emptied, her focus narrowing to the spot where they were joined, to the feeling of his even, powerful strokes.
She wrapped her legs around him and groped around for a pillow, wedging it under her hips to get more leverage, and they both groaned at the change in angle as he sank deeper. He buried his face in her neck, biting and sucking so hard she knew it would leave marks, but she was so obliterated by sensation that she couldn’t bring herself to care.
He was moving faster now. He slung one of her legs over his shoulder, leaning over her, driving deeper than she thought possible. She felt her eyes roll back in her head as she dug her fingernails into his back, hanging on for dear life.
She was dimly aware sounds were coming out of her, sounds that ordinarily might have made her self-conscious, but she was mindless with pleasure, taken over by pure instinct. She realized he was talking to her, too; murmuring how beautiful she was, how perfect, how long he’d wanted her, how good she felt, how wet, how tight. She let the words wash over her, enveloping her, filling her up even further than he already was with his body.
She was close, so close, and she could tell he was, too, by the catch in his breath, the slowing of his strokes, the way he felt somehow harder than ever. She reached one hand between her legs and pulled his face to hers with the other, biting his lower lip, crying out into his mouth as she came.
At her first spasm, her muscles clenching tightly around him, he shuddered inside her. She slid her leg off his shoulder so she could wrap her arms around his back, clutching his chest close against hers. He buried his face into her hair, tensing, groaning her name.
Finally, he stilled, breathing heavily, his weight pinning her to the mattress. She ran her palms up and down his sweat-slicked back as she felt his heart rate start to calm, pressing featherlight kisses into the side of his face. She felt a rush of disappointment as he slowly lifted himself onto his forearms, depriving her of his weight.
He looked into her eyes, shifting so one arm was free to stroke her face, her hair. She had never seen him look so young before, so vulnerable and unsure, his eyes moving over her like it was the first time he had ever seen her. She lifted her head up and kissed him slowly, tenderly. He seemed to relish the kiss, but when it was over, he pulled away, carefully sliding out of her and rolling onto his back.
She wasn’t sure how long they lay there, silent except for the sounds of their ragged breathing. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. The full weight of what they had just done settled over her, replacing the weight of his body. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. If he got weird again now, clammed up, pushed her away for the rest of the weekend, she didn’t know what she would do. She couldn’t take it. Her chest tightened even further at the thought.
She felt the mattress shift as he got up, heard the snap of rubber as he disposed of the condom. He climbed back into bed beside her, the sheets whispering as he adjusted himself. Turning her head, she saw that he’d rolled over to face her again, so she did the same. He was looking at her with that inscrutable look of his. Back to where they’d started—only now, everything was different.
“Did it work?” he asked, his voice husky.
She creased her brow in confusion.
“I mean…are we cured?”
It took her sex-addled brain a few long moments to process what he meant. Once she realized, though, laughter started bubbling up inside her, almost hysterical. Her laughter was infectious, overtaking Ethan, too, and the two of them lay there cackling like hyenas.
“Yes. Yes, we’re cured,” she wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. “Get the hell away from me, ugly.”
She punctuated the sentence by hooking her leg over his hip, pushing him onto his back, and straddling him.
THE NEXT DAY AND A half passed in a haze. They canceled all their other obligations Audrey had set up for them in favor of fucking on every surface of the villa, interior and exterior, horizontal and vertical. Privately, Ethan was astonished by his own stamina. Even in his prime, he’d had his limits—unless there was some kind of upper involved. But when Grey looked at him, when she touched him, no matter how innocently, he was ready for her again in an instant. If a pharmaceutical company could figure out how to bottle her, they would drive Viagra out of business. All the benefits, with no side effects.
Well. Maybe one side effect.