Something about her was special, and he paused to see if he would feel any lingering guilt. But then he was pulling on her nipples and gently biting her ear, and she was making these little keening sounds in the back of her throat that were driving him wild and there was no room for guilt. Only pleasure.
His fingers drifted down over her belly, down between her legs, and she was so wet he instinctively thrust his cock against her hip. He thought about what she had told him, about her clit being too sensitive to direct touch, so he played around the edge of it, letting his fingers dance on top of it, rather than pushing hard on it.
“John, please. I need…”
He thought about the things he wanted to do to her. The things they had talked about on that magical Christmas night. He wanted to go down on her, taste her, but he was too close to the edge to prolong this. Next time, he thought.
He reached over to his bedstand drawer and pulled out a condom, which he quickly rolled on. Then he was on top of her, and she was spreading her legs to make room for him. Before she could prepare for it, or tense against it, he thrust hard and deep.
“Oh my God!” He could feel her tighten around him, knew she was coming and he needed to see her eyes. Needed to see what she was feeling.
He pushed off the loose tie and watched as those green eyes opened and looked at him with such intensity, he had to bite his lower lip and fight not to come.
“Again,” he growled against her neck as he started to pound heavy and deep inside of her.
“I… I can’t,” she panted.
Not satisfied with that answer, he gripped his hand under her thigh and shifted her leg up high and over his hip. It changed his angle, and he started thrusting again, and the cry he wrangled out of her was worth it. God, she felt so good. So hot and tight.
He could feel the clench of her nails in his back, could feel her body tightening around him again, could feel her squeezing down on his cock and suddenly it was all too much. He bent down to kiss her, even as he felt himself explode with one last heavy thrust against her while she cried out her pleasure again.
Spent, he let himself collapse on top of her. Absorbing the feel of her hands softly stroking his back, where before they had been clawing him. It was a pleasure he hadn’t realized he’d missed.
It made him feel cherished.
Sadly, he needed to get rid of the condom and she needed to breathe. Rolling off her, he dealt with the logistics, but was quickly back in bed, pulling her against him. He wasn’t going to think about that small resistance he felt when he tucked her up against him.
“What happens now?” she asked on a quiet whisper.
It seemed obvious to him. “We sleep,” he said as he kissed her shoulder. “And then we wake up and do it all over again.”
He closed his eyes and in seconds he was out.
John woke up the next morning to an empty bed. When he ran his hands over the sheets next to him, he discovered they weren’t remotely warm. He wasn’t going to panic. She said it had been a while for her and she was just being skittish. Four orgasms over the course of two amazing rounds of sex was bound to unnerve a woman not used to something like that.
He glanced at the bed stand and frowned when he didn’t see a note. He got up, pissed, brushed his teeth and then went to discover that she’d left no note anywhere in his apartment.
He found his phone he’d left in the back pocket of his jeans and texted her.
Good morning, sweetheart. I wanted to make you breakfast :(. See, you reduced me to an emoji.
He waited for the excuse. The early business meeting she had. The morning appointment she couldn’t be late for. The landscaper who was coming to work on the lawn, which of course would be ridiculous in winter.
Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to be angry. He knew he was going to have to be patient with her. Take it slow. He’d sensed it last night with how nervous she’d been. She’d been wound so tight, until he’d fucked her into exhaustion. Or thought he had.
Frowning at the idea she had left in the middle the night when it had been dark and she was alone, John told himself it would have been easy enough for her to call a cab or Uber. Still he would feel better once he saw the dots appear on his phone letting him know she was alright.
Only the dots never showed up.
An hour later, and two more unanswered texts, he was starting to get really nervous.
Kate, this is serious. I need to know you made it home okay or I’m going out looking for you.
Finally he saw the dots. At least she was alive. But as quickly as they appeared suddenly they were gone.
She wasn’t going to answer him. If not for some damn dots on a screen, he would have been left to worry about her all day.
Suddenly a message popped up. At least she wasn’t that cruel, he thought, but he could feel her shutting the door in his face. Firmly.
I’m fine. Goodbye John.