Page 58 of Offsides

“Feeling good?” I ask, my hand resting on her belly, then sliding up to her sternum where her heart beats rapidly under my palm.

She chuckles softly. “Very good. Mmm. Soon you’ll feel as good as me.”

I grin. “That’s the plan.”

Rolling to her side, she props herself up on one arm and gestures to my aching dick. “Do you want me to …?”

I shake my head at her half formed question. “Not tonight.” Grabbing the condom, I roll it on, then lie back on the pillows. “C’mere.”

She takes my offered hand and rolls to her knees where she straddles me. I help her out by holding my dick steady as she lines herself up.

And then it’s just a slow sweet slide into heaven.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Dani

Eli’s head lifts from the pillow as I slowly take him inside me, his mouth open in a gasp of pleasure.

“Fuck, babe,” he whispers. “You feel so fucking good.”

I give my hips an experimental swivel and hum. “Yeah. You do too.”

His hands grip my hips, but he doesn’t make any effort to try to control my movements. So I start to experiment to see what feels best, slow swivels and a little bit of grinding until he’s hitting my G-spot, and I’m gasping right along with him.

“Fuck, Dani. You’re killing me.”

“Well at least it’s a pleasant way to go.”

He starts to laugh, but it’s cut off by another gasp as he lifts his head again. His hands roam my body, squeezing my hips, gripping my boobs when I lean forward so he can hold them steady for his mouth, one palm over my heart when I sit back more. Something about that last one seems so intimate. His eyes locked on mine, his hand over my heart, it’s like he’s wanting to communicate with more than his words.

It’s deep and visceral, that connection. In ways I didn’t feel the last time.

I try not to read too much into it, though. I know from painful experience that declarations and promises made during sex don’t actually count. Luke made sure I learned that rule.

And while I know that Eli is nothing like Luke, I still know better than to think that this—our second time having sex ever at the beginning of a very new phase of our relationship—means more than us both being caught up in this moment.

Still. It’s a really lovely moment to be caught up in.

I’m going to just enjoy it for as long as I can.

Soon Eli’s need for control shows itself, and he holds me in place as he thrusts up into me, his chest and shoulders flexing as he chases his release. I brace myself with my hands on his chest, doing my best to keep up with him but eventually giving up and just hanging on for the ride.

As good as this feels, I’m not going to come again. But there’s a different sort of pleasure in knowing I’m the reason Eli is unraveling beneath me, in watching the look of discovery that takes over his face just before he reaches orgasm, his mouth open in a silent gasp.

And when he collapses back on the bed, a loose-limbed puddle of well-fucked boy, I gently climb off him and settle next to him. Opening his eyes, he gives me a sleepy smile and pulls me close, his breathing deep and even like he might be falling asleep. Except a moment later, he releases me to deal with the condom, stepping out of the room for a moment followed by the sound of running water in the bathroom across the hall.

For my part, I sit up and get under the blankets, enjoying being wrapped in the warm, comforting smell of Eli—fabric softener, the slight spice of his deodorant or cologne, and underneath, the scent of clean male skin.

When he steps back into the room, he pauses a moment before closing the door and gives me a satisfied smile.

“What?”

He hums, stalking to the bed. “I like seeing you in my bed.”

“That works well, then, because I like being here.”

Lifting the blankets, he slides in, turns me so he can be the big spoon wrapped around me, and kisses my shoulder. “Stay the night?”

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