Page 90 of I Almost Do

He moves against me, watches himself as he presses against my opening, and then freezes, eyes closed. "Oh shit," he groans. "This is not happening right now. Clarissa. Baby."

I hold still. "It's okay. If you're not ready, it's fine. It might take time for us to work up to—"

James's eyes go huge. "I amready. Trust me. But I don't have any condoms."

Oh, that.I push back up against him. "I'm on the pill. So get in there."

Someday, I'm going to look back on those words, and I'm going to laugh about the way I demanded he take my virginity. But not today. Today I'm just desperate.

James's entire being collapses in relief. He tips his head down, resting his forehead against mine, and says, "Oh thank God," at the same time he pushes that gorgeous, perfect cock into my pussy in one slow, unrelenting glide. The sensation is overwhelming. It's nothing like the toys he bought me. I'm so full, I feel him everywhere. He’s in mythroat.

When he's fully seated, he stops. Holds still. I'm looking down our bodies, taking in the sight of his cock inside me. He puts a long-fingered hand on my jaw and uses it to gently push my head back to look into his eyes.

"You okay?" he asks.

A single ecstatic burst of joy punches out of me. "God, yes. You?"

He grins and drops his face against my neck. “Oh yes,” he says, the words vibrating against my skin and into my heart.

Then he rides me hard and fast, the way he promised he would.

He pushes his thumb into my mouth. "Suck."

I do, curling my tongue over the digit. He pulls it out with a pop of suction. Then he slides that hand down between us, swirling his thumb over my clit as he works me on his dick.

"I'm going to take you over fast this time," he rasps. "I have to. I'll go slow next time. I swear it."

I don't even know if I say anything to that. I'm just pushing up against him. Crying out. This isn't even my body. I'm just a halo of pleasure and need that hovers over the person I used to be.

James has his face pressed into my hair, his mouth inches from my ear. "That's my girl. That's my strong, smart, amazing girl. Clarissa, I love you. I love you so fucking much. You are never leaving me again. I won't survive it. God, your pussy feels so fucking good. Do you feel that? Do you feel how hard you make me? How good you make me feel?"

I don't even think James knows what he's saying. It's just stream of consciousness pouring out of his mouth, but I love every word.

I'm practically sobbing from pleasure, so twisted up inside, so coiled with tension, I feel frantic with it.

He keeps moving, swirling and pumping, while he talks into my ear. Taking me higher and higher.

"You have no idea how often I dream of this. Holding you in my arms, fucking into your sweet little pussy with your taste on my tongue.”

I jerk and shudder silently as I come, pleasure robbing me of breath and voice.

I'm still coming when his cock jerks inside me. With a gush of liquid heat, James orgasms with a groan, his ass clenched, a slick film of sweat on his skin.

"I love you," I say, tears choking my words. "I will never not love you."

James didn't lie when he said we'd go slow the second time. He kisses me everywhere, from his gentle touch against my temple to his goofy slurp on my big toe that makes me shriek and laugh.

His hands glide over my skin with a leisurely, exploratory touch, both of them moving in firm sweeping motions over my back, down my arms. His hands weigh my breasts and trail over my abdomen. He slides a hand from my butt to my knee and back again.

When he sits and pulls me on his lap to straddle him, he teaches me how to ride. And while I ride, he works my clit so slowly, I could scream in frustration. I give him a seething look, and he laughs, then sucks my fingers into his mouth, guiding them to my clit to let me set the pace.

And we come together, wrapped in each other's arms and holding on for dear life.

An hour later, we're standing near the door to James's office. His eyes travel over my hair, my lips, my neck. He looks satisfied with himself. Maybe a little smug.

I indicate his gaping shirt. "Are you going to put yourself back together?"

He tries to smooth a hand through his wildly ruffled hair, then says, "I can't. My wife ripped three buttons off my shirt."

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