Page 43 of Not That Ridiculous

Fine. If he wasn’t going to get on with it, then I would.

I rolled my hips into his a few times, and he began to lazily move back, still holding me. It didn’t take long before he got bossy and controlled my movements.

And then I made the mistake of looking over his shoulder.

Dusk was falling and the overhead kitchen light was on, turning the large window over the sink—which was directly in front of me—into a reflective surface.

And I saw what Kevin was doing to me.

I met my own wide, startled eyes for a split second before my attention dropped to the man moving against me.

His trousers were shoved down to his knees, I’d dragged his t-shirt up his broad back in double fistfuls, and there it was: Kevin’s arse, round and muscular, catching the light every time he lazily pumped against me, tightening and showcasing deep side dimples before pushing out and doing it again, then again, then again.

Utterly hypnotised, I released his t-shirt and slid my hands down his sides and around to his buttocks. They felt even better than they looked. Firm. Hot. Shifting under my palms.

Still, I was blocking my own view. I slipped my hands lower.

It took a moment for me to notice that Kevin had twisted his neck to look behind him, and was watching me watch him.

“Pervert,” he said.

My cheeks scorched with heat.

“Like that, do you? Check this out.” He clenched and released each cheek individually. “I can do it with my tits, too.”

My fingers dug in.

“Why don’t you hold on for the ride,” he said, “and enjoy the show while I do all the work?”

Words were beyond me. I nodded frantically.

“Yeah?” he said, smiling at me. “You’re a lot of fun, Charlie. I was going to tenderly stroke you off and be romantic about it, but this isgreat.”

No one had ever accused me of being fun in my whole life.

I hitched my hips pleadingly into his, gasping as my sensitised shaft rubbed over his tight abs.

“Okay,” he said, and dropped a sweet kiss on my lips. “I’m gonna hold onto the table or we’ll be walking it across the room. Ready?”

“Yes, oh my god, Kevin, please just—ohhhh.”

He gripped the table, widened his stance and wiggled his hips from side to side, notching us tightly together, and he was off.

Air was driven out of me with each shove of his body into mine. My arms went up and around his waist, then to his shoulders.

My mouth dropped open, letting out ridiculous little whines and wet gasps. He wasn’t just slamming into me, or rabbiting away, either of which would have workedfine. No, he was slowly, thoroughly, pulsing into me. Every now and then, he bent his knees to thrust up, or pressed in and held to circle his hips a few times.

And I saw everything.

His arse, his back muscles contracting, the tendons in his strong forearms flickering, his shoulders bunching.

I was lost in the sensation, drowning in the visuals, and then Kevin took hold of my chin, lifted my mouth to his and said, “Come on, Charlie,” before he kissed me softly.

I sobbed into the kiss and my stomach clenched brutally as I came all over him.

He kissed me through it, so tender and gentle as I cried out that tears welled in the corners of my eyes.

And then he came all over me, and I was right.

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