I grasped his ass, digging my nails in, and I took him and took him until he pulled out, hauled me up underneath him, lowered down to me and slammed inside again.
I exploded instantly.
It didn’t take long for Hale to join me.
His weight fell on me, but he rolled us immediately to our sides, hiking my leg over his hip while he bent his leg between mine so he could remain inside.
I curled my arms around him and pressed close.
“You good?” he asked.
“Much better now,” I answered, giving him a squeeze.
He chuckled, kissed the top of my head and pulled me closer.
“Was that one of your fantasies about me?” I asked.
“Yup,” he answered.
“You have a good imagination,” I remarked.
He chuckled again.
God, I loved that sound.
The feel of it was even better.
Sadly, he naturally slid out of me.
“You need a cleanup or are you good to keep my cum?” he inquired.
At his question, my brain hit pause.
Because there was something about it, an intimacy beyond the intimacy we’d just shared. A need to know for him. A thoughtful query for me. That he’d ask it, that we were there, having sex with no protection.
It was meaningful. It was huge. It was a “we’re in a relationship” question and there was beauty to it that I found I instantaneously treasured.
It was us. It was our now. It was also our future.
So I answered the way I never thought I would (because leaking, seriously, not fun), but when I did, my tone was subdued, moved, even reverent.
“I want to keep you with me for a while.”
His arms tightened, showing me that had meaning to him, then he pulled us up the bed, arranging the pillows so he was reclining on them, and I was reclining down his side with my head on his chest, my arm draped over his abs.
“We need to talk about something, properly,” he announced.
I tipped my head back to look up at him.
He was looking down on me. “You need some water first? Maybe a glass of wine?”
I could use both.
I didn’t say that.
I asked, “What do we have to talk about…properly?”
“Sex,” he answered.