She straddles him, sitting up on her knees, granting her a clear line of sight to the door and providing him with the best possible view of her nipple piercings, already pointing at him in the cold air. He runs his mouth along the gentle curves of the undersides of her breasts while she watches from her slightly elevated position, digging her nails into his back. She’s claimed to be dissatisfied with their size; making her feel otherwise could be his new mission in life.
When she’s had enough of the teasing, Ari tears into the foil package. He looks down at her hand stroking along the length of his cock a few times before unrolling the condom.
She stills for a moment, searching his face. “Point of no return?”
Her voice has an edge of uncertainty, but his doesn’t: “Good.”
Josh puts his hands on her waist, supporting her as she slowly eases herself down. It’s not like she needs the assistance, but there’s something about them doing this together—as partners—that excites him.
“Breathe,” he says, not breathing. She exhales unsteadily until she sinks all the way down, pressing her fingers into his shoulders. “Good. So good, Ari.”
His vocabulary has shrunk considerably over the last hour.
They stay like that for a few seconds, adjusting to a new center of gravity.
“Don’t move yet,” she murmurs.
Resisting every urge to do just that, he watches as she drags her knees forward, bringing their bodies closer, letting him nudge half an inch deeper. Running her hand up to the back of his head, she pulls on his hair to tilt his chin up.
Ari sucks along the side of his neck, up to his earlobe and whatever she’s doing with her tongue is making it really fucking difficult to remain still. The pleasure centers in his brain that have been dormant for too long light up in neon.
She leans back, placing her palm against his cheek. It’s like she sees everything—the self-loathing, the judgmental tendencies, the mistakes that haunt him at night. The face that’s made him self-conscious his entire life. And she wants him.
He can feel how much she wants him.
Fuck.
He has to move. Now.
With a soft grunt, he holds her hips and thrusts up, making her gasp.
“You feel so good,” she whispers. “God, you feel so good.” Her vocabulary is also operating at a first-grade level.
He rolls his hips up into her again, watching her body respond. She lets her head hang back and he can’t help reaching for her neck, running his hand down to her collarbone and between her breasts, which shake slightly as he moves again.
“Look at us.” He moves his hand to her head, tilting it down. “Don’t close your eyes. Look.”
“Josh!” She tenses around him again. “Shiiit…” she breathes out.
That fucking does it. He has to be on top.
“Hold on to me,” he says, pulling her back into his chest. She rests her chin on his shoulder, clinging tightly as he stands and, for a brief moment, contemplates using the wall, but no. It’s not the right time for that. He turns them around, lowering her down until she’s on her back. He rests his weight on his elbows. Thank fucking God he’s been doing planks.
“Okay? Can I—”
“Yeah.” She wraps one of her legs around his waist, pushing her heel against his back.
Finally, he moves the way he wants to. Not too fast, but deep. Really fucking deep in her. She meets each of his thrusts, the crown of her head just barely bumping up against the headboard each time. It’s a little mesmerizing.
Her left hand grabs at the corner of the mattress, like she needs something to hold on to.
Josh grasps it with his right hand, intertwining their fingers.
She can hold on to him.
They move together without speaking. Not that there’s total silence. He’s quite happy to have only their breathing and moaning reverberate around the room.
Actually, fuck, he’s being pretty loud right now.
Maybe that’s why Ari turns her head to the left, breaking the eye contact they’ve been holding. Is she trying to imagine she’s somewhere else? With someone else? Someone with enough self-control to not lose his goddamn mind over missionary sex?
Then he follows her gaze and realizes what captured her attention. She’s looking at their clasped hands. Her eyes are welling up.
The icy shard of anxiety stabbing at his brain melts into warm water.
She waited for this, just like you did.
Yeah, he’s not going to last much longer.
“I want this, Ari.” Words are tumbling out again. “All of it.”
She turns her head back up to face him, letting out a sob.
“Josh…” she chokes out. “I-I’m…”
He moves faster, losing some control, unclasping their hands to focus his fingers on her clit. His, uh, technique lacks some of the nuance he’d demonstrated before, but he can already feel the pressure building in his own body.
“I know. I feel you. You’re so close—”
She babbles nonsense syllables he wishes he could decipher. Not that he’s making much sense, either.
What a fucking stupid and amazing idea this was. It doesn’t matter that the rest of his life is in shambles, as long as he can have this. We fit together—we literally fit together.
“We’re so good for each other,” he says, opening the floodgates. “I know it. It’s—”
“Josh…”
He leans down an inch closer, testing her flexibility. She’s panting, legs shaking, just on the edge. He can feel himself about to explode.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” He touches his forehead to hers.
Her face screws up, her eyes squeezing shut, and he feels her clench as she cries out, pulsing around him.
Fuckingshitgoddamngonnacumfuckfuck.
In a fraction of a second, everything tightens and releases. He feels simultaneously powerless and almighty as he lets go.
Josh takes three of the deepest breaths of his life. His mind feels blank, like there’s a blinking cursor waiting for a line of code.
He lets himself roll onto his back and disposes of the condom, missing the trash can and not caring. He pulls Ari closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes are still closed. He can feel her pulse racing, her slightly erratic breathing slowly growing steadier until she drifts off.
She might wake up and feel differently about everything. Which, now that he’s coming down from whatever the fuck possessed him thirty seconds ago, seems increasingly, terrifyingly plausible.
On the other hand, Ari is nestled into him, perfectly calm and trusting. That’s fucking amazing, too.
He could let himself sleep.
But he won’t.
He feels good so rarely—why waste it on his traitorous subconscious? Not when she’s clinging—actually fucking clinging—to him. He strokes her hair with his left hand.
No. He’d stay awake for days for this.
19
ARI BLINKS HER EYES OPEN with a jolt. Ten feet over her head, there’s a beige plaster ceiling with a long, disconcerting crack running from the light fixture to the molding. It’s been forever since she’s woken up in a strange bed.
Ari wipes some drool from the corner of her mouth. Her hand connects with a shoulder. Which she’s apparently been using as a pillow.
Oh no.
Several key memories from the very recent past flood her brain. This isn’t a strange bed. She’s seen it several times before. Just not from this angle.
It doesn’t seem to be fully light out. There’s frost on the windowpane but it’s about a million degrees under the covers. She’s forgotten how men magically become radiators at night.
Ari carefully turns onto her side to better position herself for a silent escape, but his shoulder stirs and seems to follow her, definitively shutting the window in which she could have surreptitiously slipped out of bed and retrieved her dress from the living room. Shit. He closes the gap between her back and his chest and hello, yes, we are both extremely naked.
“Hey.” The voice is low and soft. It’s Josh, but some new, weird version of him that’s already speaking to her in a different tone.
“Is it, uh, morning?” She grabs the duvet and holds it to her chest the way women do in PG-13 movies. “Did you fall asleep, too?”