Page 72 of Falling Madly
He grabbed my hips and tossed me on my back, landing on me like he’d been before, but with more weight. Overwhelming and solid. “Maybe you don’t know how you feel, but I do. And I’m happy to wait for the moment you connect the dots, Teresa.”
“You’re very sure of yourself for someone I’ve rejected multiple times.”
“Rejected?” He growled into my ear, slipping a hand between my legs. “I’d like to see you try.”
I was so wet he could feel it through my leggings. He dragged two fingers across the soaked fabric, and I gasped out loud. I’d already discarded my underwear after the last time, and now I’d have to throw away this elf costume as well.
I could have proved my point by rejecting him right there. But I was too far gone. In that moment, I was willing to pay any price, and he knew it. Maybe he knew something I didn’t.
“You”—he kissed my nose—“are lying to yourself, but I’m going to let it slide.” He kissed my neck and slipped his fingers under my waistband, sliding down almost to where Ineeded him. “Falling in love is scary. Falling for someone you’re supposed to hate is confusing. But you’re doing great.”
“I—”
He shut me up with his lips, then his tongue. My whole body was on fire, skin hot and clammy, chest falling and rising in the tight space under his, hips bucking against his hand. “Ask me, and I’ll give you anything.”
“I’ll take your cock. And your couch,” I said, giving him a bullish look. “I’ll take this room.”
“It’s yours.”
I heard the sound of foil ripping and he tugged down his jeans and underwear to roll a condom on. When his fingers slid between my legs, I shivered from head to toe. He stroked me, slowly and deliberately, circling my center, watching my face like it had instructions written on it.
As my mouth opened on a gasp and my hips lifted to meet him, he stroked one finger across my clit, so softly I nearly screamed.
Then he lowered his lips to mine just in time to keep me quiet, holding my tongue against his. I throbbed, overcome by the beautiful ache, on the edge of unraveling. He stroked me again and again, keeping a steady pace, drawing the feelings out.
I shuddered, on the brink of release, before he pulled away, smiling.
“More,” I pleaded.
“Soon.” He cupped me in his hand as I pulsed against his palm, so frustrated I wanted to squirm.
I’d never felt more ready, more carved out for someone.
He took his time, teasing my opening with the head of his cock, until I stifled a moan. He lowered down to whisper into my ear. “I built this place for you, Teresa. It’s yours. I’m yours. Do you want me?”
“Yes. Please!” I lifted my pelvis, desperate for him.
“Are you sure? I’ve never been this hard.”
Looking into my eyes, he pushed into me, slowly and gradually. My body stretched and morphed, expanding to take him in, to join with his, until I saw stars. They burst behind my eyelids like fireworks as he invaded every inch of me. I was locked between him and the floorboards, so perfectly tight and full I could have floated off like a helium balloon, had I not been trapped under his weight.
He held still for a moment, waiting for me to adjust. To relax into this perfect invasion.
After a moment, he shifted against me. It was not enough and too much, all at the same time. I whimpered something, trying to move with him. I was used to being in charge and chasing my pleasure. But here, trapped under him, I was at his mercy, my body overcome by the building sensation, like a vessel receiving a message from another dimension. He rocked, tiny micro movements that built up more and more tension. After a moment, he paused, holding half-way back, smiling. My clit ached in sync with my heartbeat, and I held my breath.
Finally, he filled me again, squeezing my lungs flat.
“I love you,” he whispered.
My release was almost instant. Pure physics. The uncoiling of something tight that couldn’t be held back any longer. A force of nature that sought to restore balance where pressure had built for too long. I muffled my cries with his shirt, riding the long downhill, sweeter than anything I’d experienced before.
To my surprise, tears followed right after. My chest heaved as if the orgasm had moved up there, still sweet and satisfying, yet slightly embarrassing.
I raised a hand to my face to hide from his gaze.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. He pulled away, discarding the condom—evidence of his own release. I hadn’t even noticed, and it mademe feel ashamed. But as soon as he rolled off me, I felt worse. Adrift.
