I’m waiting for him to leave. He’s waiting for it too, if his accelerated breathing is any indication.
And yet, Thomas spins around and faces me. The hunger in his expression is unmistakable. I’m rendered speechless by it. He bends down to plant a hard kiss onto my lips. A ticking pulse starts down below, in my pussy, a bomb that could blow up at any minute.
“Last time,” he growls over my mouth. “Ask me to promise you that this is the last time.”
I don’t want to, but it needs to be done. We’re going to be over by the time we both come. The amount of time we have left is the length of one fuck. This is how we began, right? And this is how we’ll end. I want to laugh at the rightness of it all. I want to cry.
“P-Promise me that this is the last time?”
Tectonic plates shift under the harsh surface of his body, juddering and rearranging themselves. “Yeah. I promise.”
After that, there isn’t any need for words. He hauls me up in his arms and strides over to my apartment, our lips fused together, my fingers holding on to his hair. He kneads the globes of my ass as he kicks the door shut, and his long legs eat up the distance to the opposite wall. My back thuds against it, a sharp pain shooting in my skull, but I just kiss him harder. I latch on to his lips like I’ll never let him go.
He props me against the wall with his hips, fitting his hardness over my core. His greedy hands wander up and down my bare thighs. He tucks his thumb inside the hem of my polka dot sleep shorts and edges closer and closer to my wet, hot center.
His tongue slides down my neck and he takes a bite out of the swell of my right breast. This is what happens when we’re in close proximity—we combust, we burn. He yanks down the straps of my cami and exposes my puffy tits, lashing my nipples with his tongue, one at a time.
“Oh God…” I arch against the wall, bending myself into a taut half-moon.
He lets go of my thighs and frames my face with his hands, forcing me to look at him. Our chests move in sync. One breath in and one breath out. Our lips are parted. Our eyes swirl with animal lust. In this moment, we’re more than soul mates. We inhabit each other’s bodies. We are one. One skin. One heart. One need.
He smacks a hard and fast kiss on my lips and whips my shorts off, leaving me half dressed in my cami, which is bundled up beneath my breasts. On his knees now, he bands an arm around my waist to keep me steady, and with the other, he parts my trembling thighs.
Then he falls on me. Tongue, teeth, and mouth—I get them all. He slashes my core with his decadent, dirty touches. A long suck on my clit. A couple of jarring rotations of his fingers inside me. All the while, he murmurs dirty nothings to my quivering cunt. He tells her how much he loves her taste. How much of a good girl she is to respond to him this way. How he’s never going to forget how tight and hot she is. How she hugs his cock like a glove a size too small but somehow, still right.
I come in the wake of his filthy words, his dirty poetry to my hungry cunt, and it’s glorious. Magical. Potentially life-altering. All I can do is tangle my fingers in his hair and chant his name over and over. He presses a soft, fluttering kiss on my tattoo and stands up. His arms lift me from the floor and carry me bridal style in the general direction of my bedroom, which I waved at in my half-drowsy state.
I nuzzle in the hollow of his throat as he enters, and lays me down on the bed. He then proceeds to make enough space around me so we can get comfortable. I watch him with hooded eyes as he unbuttons his shirt halfway, then snags it in the back and pulls it over his head. His jeans come off next, leaving him magnificently, heartbreakingly naked.
My hands twitch with the need to traverse the solid pack of muscles of his chest and abdomen. The raven curls sprinkling his chest exude sheer masculinity. He runs his gaze over my body, from the cloud of my hair to the tips of my flexing toes. He’s committing me to his memory, like I’m doing to him.
I arch my back for him and his cock gives a jerk. Licking his lips, he grabs it at the base then pumps it once, twice. His touch on his own cock translates to the erotic sensations in my core, and a trickle of cum seeps out.
The muscles of his thighs bunch as he bends down to retrieve a condom from his jeans.
“No. No condoms.” His displeased frown makes me rub my thighs together. “And no pussy either.”
Now his frown is more than displeased. It’s thunderous. He locks his palms on my knees and applies pressure until my thighs are parted, and my needy flesh is open to his eyes. “You want to repeat that?” His voice has dropped an octave lower, scraping my senses, arousing them even more.
“I want it in my ass.”
Bold, bold words for someone who’s pinned down on the bed simply by the intense look of her lover. I bet if he told me to stay still so he could cut out a piece of my heart, I’d obey him. I’m so far gone for him that he could fool me easily.
He arches his eyebrows and prowls over my body, his sculpted arms putting on a show for me. “What?”
My toes dip into the springy hair of his calves as I reply, “If this is the last time then I want you wh-where you’ve never been.”
His hair falls over his forehead as he lowers himself over me, propped up on his arms. “It’s going to hurt.”
“I know.”
A fierce expression flickers over his face, not yet taking hold but lurking. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I would laugh if I weren’t on the verge of crying—again. He’s already hurt me a million times before. What’s one more? I want the hurt. I want to burn. He told me once that he’d ruin me for any other man, and that this is how he’d do it. I want him to do it. I want this. I want to be ruined for every other man out there because no one is like him. If I can’t have him, then no one will ever have me. I’ll be alone. The very thing I was running from…I want it now.
I whisper, “It’s okay.”
A drop of sweat from his forehead plops down between my breasts and he watches its descent. His breathing is erratic. He wants this as much as me. In fact, he might be afraid of how much he wants it.
“I might not be able to stop…” He is measuring each word, striving to make them just right. “Once…Once I get in.”
I cup his harsh jaw and rub his calves with my feet. “But you’ll make it good. You always make it so good for me. Please, Thomas?”
My pouting lips are his demise. That fierce expression overtakes his features, darkening his eyes and flushing his cheeks crimson. He moves away and hauls me up by my arm. I yelp as I go up on my knees, facing him.