I loved the way his hands felt on my skin. I didn’t care if they had cuts or bug bites on them, they made me feel feral. It was the same way he made me feel every single time he got me alone, like I couldn’t scale him fast enough.
I wondered offhandedly if this is how most people felt during sex. This must be the reason why it’s such a big deal.
It wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy sex. I did. Neil could give me an orgasm most of the time—I’d never had a problem getting there. But it wasn’t this all-consuming, driving need that it seemed to be for everyone else.
I could never understand why people would fight about it or cheat looking for it or end things because there wasn’t enough of it. It was always dead last on my list of important things in a relationship.
But now I got it.
If this was the kind of sex everyone else was having, it all made sense, because this? This was incredible. It was like Daniel had flipped some broken switch inside me, and now all the parts were running like they should and I hummed like a well-oiled machine.
I was becoming addicted to him. I wondered how much sex I’d need to have with him for him to actually satiate this need he seemed to bring out of me. I kinda wanted to figure it out. Seemed like a fun experiment…
I was slipping an arm out of my spaghetti strap, and he came up behind me. “Don’t,” he said in a husky voice. He started kissing the side of my neck. His beard and his tongue raked across my bare skin. “I like it.”
I leaned back into him. “You like it, huh?” I ground into him, and I felt his breath shudder.
Then a hand was pushing my dress over my hips, tugging my underwear down my thighs. The clink of a belt buckle, pants dropping to the floor, and a hot erection pressing against my ass…
Need ripped through me.
He whirled me onto the bed and reached into the nightstand. He tore the corner of a condom with his teeth and I watched him roll it on. Then he was climbing over me.
And then he slowed down…
He hovered, hands on either side of me, nothing touching me but his lips, his breath on my skin.
“You smell so good,” he whispered into my collarbone.
I hooked an elbow around his neck to pull him toward me, but he held his body off me, and like he saw the complaint coming he crushed his mouth to mine to keep me quiet.
The kiss was everything, and it was torture because I wanted more than this. I wanted his weight on top of me. He was all over me and all around me, but still too far away. The heat from his body pressed into mine, I could feel it through my dress.
I’d never in my life wanted someone to rip my clothes off until this moment. I wanted nothing between us. I hated the very existence of the fabric, I wanted to feel his skin on my skin. I wanted his sweat and the pounding of his heart and his fast breath. It was some sexual claustrophobia. I was starting to feel frantic.
I ran a palm down his chest following the trail of hair under my fingertips and took him into my hand, and he sucked in a breath against my mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shuddering noise as I moved back and forth. He lost his resolve and lowered himself onto me.
When he eased inside of me, it was fireworks.
I gasped at the deepness of it, the internal thump. I felt desperate for it, like I wanted to claw at him, get him closer.
He rode me with his rough hands on my thighs, his tongue plunging in and out of my mouth, my dress bunched around my hips. I slipped an arm out of my dress strap and uncovered a breast and it made his motions more frantic.
I turned him on. He was ravenous for me.
Every time I was with him, he built me up. He gave me back something that Neil stole.
I rolled my hips just the right way and threw back my head and in one fluid movement he made his final thrusts between my legs. I could feel him pulsing inside of me, and I wished in my delirium that there was no condom.
With Neil, I hated the cleanup. But with Daniel the thought of him filling me up, him dripping down my thighs—I wanted it. I couldn’t have it. I’d never have unprotected sex with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend. It was amazing I was even having sex with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend at all. But, God, the thought of it made me quiver.
I realized that I would try things with him that I hadn’t tried with anyone. He made me feel uninhibited like that—and safe.
I think the safe thing was the biggest part of it, actually.
He hovered, still inside of me, catching his breath. His heart was thudding against my bare breast like a jackhammer.
“Fuck…” he breathed. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”