Page 184 of Jaded

“Watch—” He goes very, very still as I lie back on the bed and reach between my legs. “Oh. Oh, I am definitely going to watch.”

“Good.” My voice goes ragged as I press my finger in. “Because it’s hot as hell.”

“It is,” he murmurs, and then his hand wraps around his own cock. Starts to move.

“Goddamn.” I’ve never had a guy watch me do this before. Usually it’s either he’s doing it for me, or I did it beforehand, but this is . . . hot. Really hot. Hot enough I’m already adding a second finger because I want more, more, more.

“Olli,” Nat whispers, and that strained little sound makes me moan with want. He leans over me, and his lips find mine in a shockingly gentle kiss. “Olli.”

“You like that?” I ask, barely choking the words through my own ragged breaths.

“I want to do it.” His fingers wrap around mine, tug my hand away. And then his warm fingers slide against my skin, pressing their way through the taut muscle.

We gasp in unison, mouths open against each other.

“Nat,” I hiss. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Oh, I’m going to,” he says, and he slides a third finger inside me.

My back arches, driving my body up to meet him, pressing my mouth into his. He kisses me. Kisses me hard, fast, needy. His fingers are still inside, working me open, but somehow I find the wherewithal to reach for that discarded condom on the bed.

“Please.”

He sits back, breaking off the kiss and the stroke, to tear open the package. I’m completely transfixed, unable to look away from him unrolling the latex over his swollen cock.

He reaches for the lube next, and I’m staring all over again as his fingers slip down his length, again and again, lubricating himself for me. For me. Me.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Are you?”

He leans forward into me. Presses his mouth against mine. “I’ve never been more ready.”

“Good.” I lick at his lower lip, then curve my leg around his ass again to pull him close. “Me too.”

The head of his cock nudges against my hole. And for one final moment, we’re still separate, Nat and Olli, two individual people. And then, he pushes forward. Into me. Hard and heavy, the thickness of him filling me.

“Shit,” he moans. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

I bite back on a gasp—discomfort and pleasure rolled into one—and he pauses.

“You okay?”

“More,” I groan against his mouth, and with my leg around his ass and my arms around his shoulders, I pull him closer, closer. Closer. All the way.

We’re conjoined. Together. NatOlli, like one being. Both of us frozen like time’s stopped, him filling me and me squeezed around him. It’s perfect. Me and him.

We gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment that might be an eternity. He leans in so his forehead rests against mine.

“I see you, little ghost.” His words whisper across my skin, embed themselves in my soul. “Never stop haunting me.”

“I promise,” I whisper back. I press my mouth to his in a silent,chaste kiss.

But it can’t last, this soft, beautiful moment, because we both need more. So I nudge my hips gently up, and he answers my request. He’s gentle, slow at first, like he’s afraid he might hurt me. But soon enough we both get lost in the motion, in the rock of hips, the friction of him inside me, the push and pull of our bodies.

We gain speed, momentum, lose rhythm. So it’s our hips slamming together, mouths crashing as we grind and rut, as we race toward that proverbial edge together. His hips buck into me, hard, harder, and he cries out. Head tilting, back arching, eyes fluttering closed as the bliss overtakes him.

I can only stare because he’s so beautiful when he comes.

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