Page 72 of The Art of Being Merry
Fueled by her comments, I lower my mouth. “If it’s a no-go, say the word.”
“K.”
My lips meld with hers, and she sinks into the kiss immediately. Like I don’t have her secretions smeared all over me, I kiss her, not holding back. She’s an eager participant and loops her hands around my neck, tugging me closer to her. Much as I want to know how she feels, I don’t let up. It can’t be bad enough since she hasn’t asked to stop.
With our lips connected, I shift my thighs between hers, lining up at her entrance, poised to push inside. One thrust, and I’m in.
Perhaps I should be more of a gentleman and make sure she’s ready, but when she barely reacts to the intrusion, I’m assured I’m good to press ahead.
I like how pliant and receptive she is to sex. How she goes with what I propose, yet isn’t afraid to ask for and take what she wants.
Needing oxygen, my lips drift from her lips to her neck. Her head tilts back, and her moans fill the space again. Sexy moans full of enjoyment.
I pull out, shove back in.
Repeat.
Do it again.
On a loop of chasing my release while Clementine seeks hers.
Her hands attack my back as her hips undulate and lift from the bed, matching my speed and rhythm.
“So good. So, so good. Used to think two in a row was a fallacy. Don’t let me down.”
“I got you.”
Although her words make sense, I question whether she knows what she’s admitting aloud. The pieces of her history she’s so easily handing over. Like her sweetness before, I’m guzzling every truth, adding them to the list of things I know about her.
Her vagina clamps tightly around me, and when the walls pulse stronger, I know she’s close. “Come for me.”
“So. Greedy,” she grits out, her orgasm pummeling her, the waves of ecstasy coursing through her, ratcheting my need for release. “Coming. Fuckkkkkk.” Her fingers dig into my back as she rides out her orgasm.
I chase mine, pulling out and pushing in at a faster pace, coming on a growl, the release so strong, it nearly knocks me out. I’m barely able to keep myself up on my forearms, cognizant not to topple and crush Clementine.
Riding it out until the bitter end, emptying everything inside me into the condom, needing to get it all out.
My breathing mirrors the woman lying beneath me, sated and loose, a shy smile claiming her lips.
“That was incredible. Wish we had time for another round.”
I pull out, careful not to let the condom slip, pulling it off and tying it in a knot, disposing of it in the trash can on the side of the bed. I lie down next to Clementine, feeling a mixture of relaxed and keyed up. It’s a weird feeling, but I can’t read into it right now. As she pointed out, we have little time left together. I won’t waste it contemplating what I’m feeling.
“Anytime you want to go again, say the word.”
“I mean, yeah. But I can’t keep paying your niece to watch my boys so I can have sex.” There’s a bit of guilt in her tone, but again, we don’t have time to delve into it.
“She’d love it, but I understand. We’ll figure something out.”
Clementine pushes up, rearranging herself so her hands rest on my chest, her chin in her hands. “Will we?”
“Listen, if you think for one minute I’m done with this, done with you,” I correct, “you’re delulu.”
She chuckles, the sound ironically loud in the quiet room. “Deal. I don’t want to give this up.” She shakes her head. “Oryou. I know we’re casual, friends with benefits, but it’s kinda superb.”
“Better than ‘kinda superb.’ But if you want to go with that, I’ll support it.”
Just until I can get her to see “casual” isn’t exactly what I have planned for her.
