Part of her brain screams at her to say anything necessary to get more, more, more right now. That part is expanding like a helium balloon. The sensible part that knows all these statements could be used against her in the inevitable argument they’ll have later today when they’ve both come to their senses? That part is shrinking down to the size of a pea.
“I think about lots of things.” She bounces the question back to him. “Why? Do you think about me?”
“No. Never. Not even once.”
“You’re so fucking weird,” she says.
“You’re so fucking wet.”
He slowly pulses against this certain spot in a maddeningly steady, controlled rhythm. Ari hates being edged. Hates it. So, so, so…much. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Hmm?” he replies, obviously reveling in making her ask for it.
“I do this to other women.” She squirms to reposition herself, seeking a little more friction. He holds her firmly in place with his other hand. “It doesn’t work on me.”
That makes him laugh. Enraging. “Answer the question.”
Ari huffs but she’d rather be satisfied than indignant. “Statistically, I’ve probably, uh…”
He lays a series of kisses down her back, his nose dragging along her lower back, inching lower…and lower until he lifts his head.
“Yes?”
Admitting it feels like the final nail in the coffin they’ve been assembling for the last twelve hours.
“I have a very dirty mind, okay? But I don’t— Ahhh. Oh God.”
“That’s it.” He rubs firmly against the same spot. “Do you want to come like this?”
“P-pretty much always. How are you doing that?” And why hasn’t she been doing it to herself for the last ten years?
He eases his fingers out and she makes a disappointed little moan.
“Want me to keep going?”
“If you stop, I’ll cut you.”
That earns another chuckle. His weight on the bed shifts and she hears a rustling on the nightstand.
After eight seconds of packet-opening struggle, he pulls her hips up a bit, kneeling behind her. Her pulse is racing and she hasn’t felt this combination of tension and excitement flood her brain without chemical assistance in years.
He places one hand on her left hip and the other between her shoulder and neck. Ari can’t help but look back at him, like she needs to double-check an answer she knows is right.
“Okay?” he asks softly. He lets go of her hip to guide himself inside her. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“I’ve taken a whole fist, you know.”
“Not mine.” He spanks the fleshy part of her ass. “Brat.”
God.
Despite her fist-related bluster, a soft curse escapes her lips because this angle feels like…uh, more than she was anticipating.
He waits for them both to breathe in and out a few times before pressing her flush against the mattress, legs straight.
It’s slow at first—which is good because she has no leverage; it’s the kind of thing she never allows herself to do with random hookups. But not being in control at all is a minor revelation, and she’s just never trusted a man like this before, maybe ever, and it’s…
Well, she usually thinks of herself as fucking the other person.
His hands move over hers, fingers intertwining again, like a pervy inversion of yesterday’s intimacy.
There aren’t any tears this time.
He lowers himself onto his elbows, covering her back with the weight of his torso, thrusting deep and slow. Ari catches her breath just before he moves her hair aside and drags his mouth over the back of her neck.
“Just keep…doing…that,” she mutters.
They breathe in the same rhythm, both groaning when he nudges that same spot, over and over.
Josh reaches underneath her, palm flat against her rib cage, and pulls her up and onto her knees in front of him, until her back is pressed against his chest. The angle is shallower and his movements are more careful, but now he can reach his hands everywhere—cupping around the underside of her breast, thumbing the nipple, making her whimper.
It’s on the verge of too much.
“Are you always this…” She can’t come up with the words. What are words? “This…this—” Her hands reach back for anything to hold on to: She scratches at his shoulder, his back, pulls at his hair. She really has been missing out on morning sex. Holy shit.
His mouth is just barely on her ear and if he says anything—a deep vibration of any kind—she’ll fucking lose it.