“So...good. I didn’t even know... I didn’t...” He thrust his hips forward and she moaned in response. “I didn’t know it could be so good.”
Then he couldn’t say anything else. All he could do was give in to the desire roaring through his body. All he could do was chase his release, each thrust bringing him closer.
“Harder,” she said, the word a near growl.
“Like this?” he asked, pulling her back against him as he pounded into her.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes. Don’t be careful. Just...you don’t need to be careful.”
So he wasn’t. He stroked her in time with his thrusts, until he couldn’t hold on anymore. That he’d had this much control was a damn miracle. And it was all gone now.
He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, bracing himself for the release that was about to hit. But there was no preparing for it.
She let out a hoarse cry, her internal muscles tightening around him, and that was the end of his restraint. He swore, holding onto her so tightly he thought he might leave a bruise. She moaned again, shifting her hands on the table, dragging the doily—and vase—to the side, and tipping it and its contents onto the floor. “I hope that wasn’t expensive,” he said, eyeing the shards of porcelain on the floor.
She laughed, the sound unsteady. She moved away from him. “Careful, don’t have shoes on.” She still did. She still had the shoes, her stockings and her bra. “I’ll get a broom. Stay back.”
She ran a hand over her flushed cheeks and walked back into the kitchen area and he couldn’t help but watch her butt.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Bathroom?”
“That way.”
She gestured to the hall at the other end of the living room. He found his way and disposed of the condom, returning just in time to see her sweeping up the last of the vase.
“It was my Nai-Nai’s. Poor Grandma, she loved this vase.”
All the blood drained out of his face. “Grace...”
“I’m kidding!” she said. “Sorry, bad joke. And my grandmother is alive, in one of those really nice assisted-living places. The vase was from Target.”
Grace felt like she’d made a huge misstep with Zack just now. Which was great since she was still knocked loopy from having sex in her entryway. Like that. She’d never done it like that before. It was intense. And amazing. And then she’d ruined it with a dead-grandma joke.
“I’m sorry, Zack. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s not...it was a joke.”
He still looked stunned. And a little pale. “You don’t look okay.”
“I understand how much things can mean to you after you lose someone,” he said. “If I would have broken your grandmother’s vase because I was an impatient jerk who bent you over what is...a damn nice but delicate-looking table, I would have felt like a giant moron.”
“It’s fine. I’ve never had anything like this. Where...where it seemed easier to do it like that because walking to the bedroom is too hard. I’m...enjoying it.”
“I’m glad you find me enjoyable.”
“Specifically I find your...male member enjoyable.”
“Oh, back on such formal terms,” he said, shaking his head. “You were on a more familiar basis with my...member.”
Her face heated. “Well, that was... I was in the moment. Have you eaten?”
“I nibbled on some cold shellfish. And yeah, nibble is all I got for that. Tiny, slippery cold... I haven’t eaten.”
“Would you like to stay? And build up your strength so that you can do—” she waved her hand “—all that to me again?”
She couldn’t believe she was inviting him to stay, but honestly...she’d been consumed with not putting a toe out of line for years. For always. Since high school, and college, and then onto her job, where she’d kept her head down and just tried to be...what she thought she was supposed to be. Which was a lot of hard work. And she’d had relationships, but they’d just been a nice addendum to her work life. Like whipped cream on your latte. Sure, it was good, but without it you still had a latte.
Losing David had been like losing whipped cream. Except by then she’d been kind of tired of him. And she was never tired of whipped cream, so maybe that was a bad example.