Page 133 of A Better Place

I don’t allow her to finish the sentence before I plunge myself deeply inside. The moment I’m in to the hilt, I close my eyes, resting my forehead against hers. I relish in the feeling of our skin brushing against each other’s in the most sensual and intimate way possible.

Slowly I start to move, and she rears her hips. I look down at her, and she bucks again, but this time she tries sitting up. Realizing she’s trying to spin us so she’s on top, I give in to her. She flips us both over, with my help, of course, and takes me in her hand, positioning herself over me and slamming down quickly.

Our bodies find a rhythm easily, like we’ve been together for years, my hands gripping her hips. Her hands are pressed against my chest, and her hair is wild around her face, the ends grazing the tops of her perfect breasts. My eyes bounce all over, studying her body like it’s a piece of art. Which it is, to me. Perfection. Every single inch of skin is silky and smooth, soft curves in just the right places, and muscles firm from yoga and tennis.

Her eyes start to glaze, and she throws her head back as she grinds herself against me.

“Can I try something?”

“Huh?”

“You trust me to do something a little different?”

She looks down at me and nods quickly, so I reach behind her and grip her ass before sliding my middle finger between her cheeks. I press the tip of my finger against her, putting just enough pressure that she gasps, her eyes springing open wide.

“You like that, beautiful?”

“Mmm,” she moans. “James, holy shit.”

“Yeah,” I grunt.

“So good.”

The faith and trust that she puts in me, giving me every part of her, is humbling and overwhelming. “That’s right. Just me and you, beautiful. Just me and you,” I promise her and push up into her harder.

She groans deep and throws her head back, her walls clutching me so tightly as she lets go. I have no choice but to follow her.

And I will.

Anywhere.

Carly

“I can’t believe you’re actually making me go through with this.”

“Really? Somehow this shocks you?”

“I suppose it shouldn’t. But yeah. I mean, buying a new car is not something I do every day, James.”

“And clearly you’ve been doing it wrong before anyway.”

“Hey!” I protest around a mouthful of warm cinnamon French toast.

“You’re so classy,” he teases, reaching over with a napkin to wipe off some syrup from my chin.

“Not my fault it’s too good to not chew and speak at the same time.”

He smirks and takes a bite of his own, not dripping syrup all over his face like an animal.

“Show off,” I mumble.

He chuckles, and we continue to eat our breakfast of French toast and bacon. While we’re cleaning up our breakfast dishes, he gets a text. I watch as his fingers fly over the keyboard, responding to whoever just texted him. He waits a few moments, and his phone chimes again. He barks out a laugh at whatever he sees.

I place my hands on my hips and look at him. “Sharing is caring, you know.”

He smiles up at me then moves his eyes to his phone again.

“Hey! Secrets don’t make friends, James!”

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