Not Safe for Work(54)

Foil tore, and I glanced over my shoulder. He rolled the condom on, his hands just slightly unsteady.

I settled back on the other pillow, heart pounding. Hurry up, I wanted to order him, but I had just enough rational thought left to murmur, “Go slow. It’s been a while.”

“Will do. Do you want it like this?” He ran a gentle hand up my back. “On your stomach?”

I’d been so caught up in wanting and needing him, I hadn’t even thought clearly enough to figure out a position, or how to get into that position, but now that he mentioned it, this would work. Because then I didn’t have to move. And the thought of him inside me now, f*cking me into the mattress until we both came…

“Just…just like this.”

“Okay.” The lube bottle clicked. “This might be a little cool.”

“S’okay.” I closed my eyes. He was right—it was cool, but the warmth of his skin and sheer anticipation more than made up for it. As he gently fingered me, I couldn’t tell whether he was taking his time for my benefit or if he was teasing me. All I knew was he spent for-f*cking-ever sliding his fingers in and out—first one, then two—and I couldn’t find enough breath to tell him to just f*ck me already. And at the same time, I didn’t want him to stop, because his fingers felt amazing.

“Are you ready for—” He paused. “I mean, can I—”

“Fuck me now.”

He quickly withdrew his fingers. The lube bottle clicked again, and then he moved over the top of me. This position would be a challenge for him, and that made me grin.

If you want this, Rick, you’re going to work for it.

One hand pressed into the mattress beside my arm. He was probably using the other to guide himself in. His movements were a little awkward, which I fully expected, but in seconds, the head of his cock was against my ass. There was pressure, and then more, and then—

“Fuck,” he breathed, and a heartbeat later, he’d slipped past the tight muscle. A curse came to the tip of my tongue too, but I couldn’t make a sound. He withdrew, then breached me again. And again. God, I could’ve let him do that all day—just shallow strokes across all those billons of nerve endings.

He started working himself in farther. I squeezed my eyes shut as he pushed deeper, and finally managed to groan, “Holy f*ck.” Why the hell had I gone so long without bottoming?

“Is this all right?” he asked, breathing hard against my neck.

“It’s perfect. You’re…f*ck, you’re doing it perfectly.”

He exhaled, then kissed the top of my shoulder as he sank into me. “Been…been wanting to do this forever.”

“Worth the wait?”

He moaned, burying his face against my neck.

“Answer me,” I said sharply.

“So worth it.” He withdrew again and slid back in. “Love the way you feel.”

“M-me too.” I tried to reach back to touch him, but in this position, all I could do was blindly brush my fingers across his thigh. No. No, I needed to feel him. See him. Kiss him.

“Wait.”

He stopped immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t…can’t kiss you like this.” I licked my lips. “Let me get on my back.”

Rick pulled out, and he sat back on his heels while I shifted around. The pillow that had been under my hips went under the small of my back, and as soon as I was situated, I gestured for him to get back on top.

He knelt between my legs, one hand on my hip and the other on the base of his cock.

Oh f*ck. The view was amazing. Rick’s brow furrowed and his lips tightened with intense concentration as he guided himself in. He watched himself take the first few slow, deep strokes, and the movement of his ab muscles mesmerized me. How the hell did I ever get a man this hot into bed with me?

I pushed myself up on one elbow and grabbed the back of his neck. His strokes fell apart as he let me pull him into a deep, hard kiss, but our lips had barely touched before he’d recovered his rhythm and was f*cking me perfectly again. And he was f*cking me faster. Harder. He felt…so damned…good.

My arms slid off him, and I dropped back onto the bed. “Fuck. D-don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he murmured. “My God, you feel amazing.”

“S-so do you.” I pumped my cock as fast as he f*cked me, and my vision was blurring anyway, so I squeezed my eyes shut.

Rick swore under his breath. Then, “Love…love the way you look.”

I forced my eyes open.

Met his gaze.

Had a heartbeat, maybe two, to drink in the sight of him—flushed, sweaty, muscles standing out—as he slammed into me.

And I came.

Rick slowed down a little. He bit his lip, his features pulling tight as if he were halfway between deep concentration and intense pain. “Please let me come,” he moaned. “Please—”

“Come.”

He threw his head back and slammed into me, knocking the breath out of my lungs. He thrust hard a few times, buried himself as deep as he could and shuddered.

Then he sank down on top of me. “Thank you,” he murmured, and kissed beneath my jaw.

As I stroked his hair, I realized exactly why I’d gone so long without bottoming—because it had been ages since I’d been with someone who didn’t take advantage of being on top. Someone who understood that just because I was taking his dick didn’t mean I was giving up control. With Rick, I could be flat on my stomach, relaxed to the edge of consciousness and letting him f*ck me, and he was still submissive.