“You like that?” I ask.
A grunt escapes his lips, followed by a notable increase in his breathing.
“How about your balls?” I whisper, dropping my hand to cup his sac, then use my nails with the barest hint of pressure.
“Yes, I like that,” he says, sliding an arm under my knee, knocking me flat onto my back. I grin and stretch my arms over my head, lifting my pelvis towards him. He watches me, slowly running his eyes down my torso while ripping the condom package with his teeth. He returns my grin with a lazy one of his own, then winks at me. He’s kneeling between my legs rolling a condom on and he winks.
It takes the breath right out of my lungs. I’m not sure why that changes the moment for me, yet it does. It’s inexplicably endearing. In the midst of this sexual furor, it says more than I want you. It says, I’m having fun with you. I think I could have fun with him for the rest of my life.
He aligns himself with my opening and glances at my face, then pauses.
“You good, Everly?” He says it softly, questioningly, his eyes fixed on mine.
I nod with the slightest movement of my head and suck my lip between my teeth when he slides the head of his cock inside of me. He’s still kneeling, guiding his dick into me with one hand, gaze intent on the point where our bodies are joining.
It’s been a while. I don’t own a vibrator—living in a dorm room is not exactly conducive to that kind of privacy. I flex my toes and arch my back as he slides in deeper, my body adjusting to the oh so welcome invasion. He slips his other arm under my opposite knee so my legs are bent back, knees near my chest and toes pointing to the ceiling, and then he thrusts in completely.
A whimper escapes my throat and he pauses for a moment, letting me adjust before he moves. When I release my lip from between my teeth and exhale, he leans over me and braces his forearms on each side of my head, resting his weight on top of me. I drop my knees, heels digging into the mattress on each side of his hips, and wrap my arms around his neck.
“This is what you wanted?” he says, pressing me into the mattress, the smattering of hair on his chest abrasive against my nipples in a way that I feel all the way to my clit. The flat planes of his stomach are resting against my own, and the weight of him feels like heaven.
“Yeah,” I whisper in response. “You feel nice.”
He meets my mouth with his own for a soft kiss.
“You feel nice too.”
His eyes are inches from mine, the tip of his nose nuzzling against my own.
I’ve had sex before.
I haven’t had whatever is happening right now.
I swallow, my heart rate increasing, and not from passion.
His lips drop back to mine, softly tangling with mine until I flex my pelvis, wanting more. He raises himself, unwrapping my hands from his neck and twining our fingers together over my head. Then he begins to move. He rotates his hips and slides out of me, the glide lighting up every nerve ending inside of me, then drives back in with a force that makes me gasp.
I dig my heels into the mattress and meet his thrusts, our entwined hands pinned to the mattress keeping me from sliding towards the fabric-covered headboard. I don’t doubt the force of his exertion would otherwise have me mobile. Our combined breathing and the slapping of his balls against my bottom is the only soundtrack in the room. He’s so deep it hurts in the best way. I love the feeling of being stretched around him, all the way to the base. The trimmed hair around his cock provides a light scratch to my clit when he angles just right.
“I’m gonna come,” I say, but I already am. My * tightens around him so hard it would hurt if he thrust, but he pauses a moment while my climax subsides, chuckling softly at my announcement that came after the event.
He withdraws, sitting back on his heels and dragging me to him, hooking both my knees over his elbows and sliding back inside of me. My lower half is elevated, his hands wrapped around my waist as an anchor to pull me onto him as he pushes into me. We can both watch from this vantage point, and I’m so wet I can see myself on the condom when he slides out and hear it when he disappears back inside.
I whimper, a bit unsure if it’s hot or embarrassing, but Sawyer’s not unsure. He groans, and it’s primal and raw and he can’t take his eyes off us. His hands are still gripping my waist. He moves one, dropping a thumb to my clit and working it with a skill I’ve never experienced. I come again and he joins me, shouting his release, stilling inside of me, then pumping his hips slowly until he’s spent.
Twenty-Nine