“He has to just instinctively, innately know my body. He has to be able to make me come in thirty seconds flat. And there has to be…something about the way we have sex that’s just…” I trailed off, finding it impossible to summon the right word.
“More than real?” Zane suggested.
“Yes, exactly,” I said, moving with him, now. “More than real.”
There was just us moving in synch, then, breathing matched, eyes locked, bodies slipping and sliding and sweating together. No hurry, no tricks, no weird positions or thinly veiled suggestions, just us, just our bodies and our hearts and whatever this thing was we shared.
He was moving slowly, still, though. Holding back, maybe.
“Zane?”
“Hmmm?”
“You’re holding back.”
“A little, yeah.”
“There’s no point to everything we just said if we’re not both all in.” I lifted up and kissed him, one hand on his waist, the other wrapped around the back of his head.
His movements faltered, stopped, and he stared down at me for a moment, and then he grinned at me. “You asked for it.”
A beat of silence, in which I was about to ask what he meant, but never got the chance. He pulled out of me and gripped me by the hips, flipping me to my belly.
Oh.
I moved to my hands and knees, ready and willing to take him like this. He slid his hands over my ass, and then shifted closer to me, upright on his knees behind me. I watched over my shoulder as he gripped his shaft and guided himself into me.
“Oh god,” I murmured.
“Ready?”
“Give it to me, Zane.”
He pushed into me, once, gently. “Like that?”
“More.”
He moved faster, thrusting harder. “Like that?”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
His hands gripped my hipbones and pulled me back into his thrusts, which were getting harder and harder with each successive slap of his hips against my ass.
“More, Zane.”
“More?”
“More…everything.”
He slowed, then, in seeming contradiction to what I’d just said. Withdrawing slowly, he hesitated at the apex and then slammed into me, forcing a cry of surprised bliss from my lips as he filled me so suddenly. Like that, then, slowly pulling back and fucking in hard, again and again, until the slow pull-outs grew faster and the thrusts in harder, until he was grunting, yanking me back into his thrusts, fucking me so hard I felt my ass jiggling, felt my tits swaying back and forth, and all I could do was whine and whimper and groan through it and slam back into his beautiful, powerful, uninhibited thrusts.
“Don’t stop, Zane,” I begged. “Keep going. Come for me. Come inside me.”
“Couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to, honey,” he murmured. “I’m close.”
“Yeah?” I breathed. “How close?”
“Fuck,fuck, Mara—so close.”