“I would have you against the wall,” I breathe, my gaze traveling along her collarbones, peeking from a black V-neck shirt. My shirt that she wore to bed. “And I would brush my fingers through your short hair.” I run my hand up the soft flesh of her neck. She’s small beneath me, thin and delicate, even if she’s likely to jump on me and grind.
“Lo,” she chokes, her voice hoarse. I can remember the past fully now. To say the words, to bring it up and relive some moments—it doesn’t hurt anymore.
I think we’ve both accepted it for what it is. Our fucked up beginning. But it’s our beginning. And no one can take that away from us. “Do you remember what I would do next, love?”
She’s fixated on my lips. “You’d press yourself against me.” Her neck flushes. “I could feel your erection, did you know that?” Her eyes flit up to mine, eager for my answer.
“I knew you made me hard, yeah,” I say with a smile.
She hits my arm. “Not that.”
“Yeah, Lil, I was a dick,” I remind her. “I wanted you to feel my cock.” I drink in her features: round face and big green eyes.
“You hoped I would ride it, huh?”
“Every day.” It also doesn’t hurt admitting these things to her anymore. I can see the lightness in her expression too. We have each other now. That will never change.
“Guess what?” she says.
“What?”
“I want to ride it now and for every single day.” She lifts her head like she’s ready for a kiss. “Promise you’ll let me?” Christ—I could fuck her right now. Impatient, she inches downward, wiggling beneath me so that she’s in line with my cock. Abandoning the kiss.
I have to control every muscle in my body to keep from taking her. After a moment of concentration, I let out a dramatic sigh and grip her waist, pulling her higher. “Unfortunately, I can’t make that promise with you, Lily Calloway.”
She squints at me, waiting for my punchline. I take my time and then press my pelvis against her heat. Her breathing staggers, and she drops her hand as my cock digs into her.
“You see,” I say, continuing where I left off. “There are going to be days where I want to ride you.”
“Oh…” She licks her lips, and I start rocking against her. Goddamn. My cock screams to be inside of her. To toss away the sheet. To remove my drawstring pants and her underwear. I ignore my dick and focus on her reactions.
Her toes curl. Her hips buck. Aching for pressure.
I lift one of her legs higher, thrusting deeper. Fabric separating us. She hooks her other leg around my waist and moves with me, grinding against my erection. Jesus. My mouth opens as a heavy breath leaves me.
Moans breach her lips. One that escalates the longer I move. High-pitched. Desperate. Like I’m her ice in the desert. It’s like when we were teenagers. Only it’s not.
I have her this time.
I’m not just hers.
She’s mine.
I kiss her deeply, sucking on her bottom lip until it swells.
“Lo, please,” she begs, her hands trembling. She wants to touch herself, to meet her peak.
“Okay, okay, shhh,” I coax, smoothing her hair off her forehead.
I reach down, beneath the sheet and her panties, and start rubbing her with my thrusts. Her eyes flutter at the new sensation, and she takes a shallow breath. Her lips part, and I expect more moans. But she manages actual words.
“It’s really going to be like when we were younger,” she says in a dazed smile. I wait for the punchline this time. “…with you coming in your pants.”
I raise my brows, trying hard not to smile. “Who said I was coming in my pants?” I grab her chin in one hand and stare down at her beautiful mouth that starts to form a perfect “O.”
I kiss her cheek, her jaw, her lips, quickening the speed of my fingers on her soft flesh. “But you first, love.”
Her eyes say, yes. A million times over.
*
I descend the staircase, showered and about to head out for lunch with Ryke and Connor. The girls are spending the Saturday with Jane and Moffy, giving us free time.
“We all have two more fucking days until we get laid,” Ryke says as he leans against the foyer wall, waiting for me to finish tying my black Vans, “so why do you look so happy?”
“My girlfriend likes blow jobs,” I tell him with a shrug.
Ryke gives me a glare. “Why don’t you write a fucking book?” he says. “You could call it: Perks of Dating a Female Sex Addict.”