Page 120 of Take My Hand

“No, I don’t think so.” And with that, I take him into my mouth, cutting off any further conversation. He bucks his hips up, pushing himself deeper and I open my throat, allowing the intrusion.

“Sorry, reflex,” he says, and I hum.

I swirl my tongue around him in slow, languid strokes as I work my way up and down his length. His body vibrates under me, straining to keep still and allow me to set the pace.

One of his hands finds its way into my hair, but he just tangles his fingers in it, holding on to me. He doesn’t try to push me deeper or take me faster.

He lets me explore, taking my time and working him deeper inch by inch until I gag when he hits particularly deep.

“Sorry,” I say, pulling off him and stroking him a few times while I catch my breath.

He lifts his head off the pillow to stare at me, eyes so dark they could swallow me whole and burn me within their fire. “You look so fucking beautiful with your lips swollen from me.”

My core clenches at his praise and I immediately sit up, crawling back over him. If he was in charge, he’d likely draw this out for longer, but I need him and I need him now.

I hover above his hips, grabbing his cock and lining him up, but realization hits me just before I sink onto him.

“Condom?”

“Inside pocket of my backpack,” he says.

But I don’t move. Because just as much trust that he’s handing over to me, I want to show him I’m handing the same amount of it right back.

I know he would never sabotage me or put either of us at risk. I know it deep in my gut and my heart and I want him with nothing between us.

“I’m on birth control,” I say, the unspoken question lifting the end of my sentence.

His thumbs brush over my skin. “I’m good to go without one if you are. It’s completely up to you.”

Giving me the final choice. And I know my answer.

“Fuck,” I moan, sinking onto him, the stretch just as tight as the first time we were together.

His hands grip my hips but don’t do anything past that. He allows me to take him inch by inch, adjusting to the intrusion until I’m fully seated.

I throw my head back and take a moment, collecting myself before I start to move, relishing the way he feels inside of me with nothing between us.

His body tenses beneath me and I know it’s killing him that I’m sitting here. His abs bulge with restraint as his nostrils flare, trying to keep himself in check. Everything inside of him is screaming to take over but he’s fighting it. He’s fighting it for me. Fighting it for himself. To push his limit and see if he can take it.

It makes me want to reward him for it. Even if this doesn't work, I’m proud of him for trying and I want to show him that. So I lift up, rising almost to the tip, before slamming back down on him.

We both groan at the motion, and I do it again.

My thighs burn as I ride him, used to having his arm strength doing part of the heavy lifting.

I shift my hips, brushing my clit against him, and I clench, bringing out a strained fuck from his mouth. I lean over him as I rock back and forth, finding a pace that I like and the angle where he hits that deep spot inside of me he always finds so easily.

Hayden watches me ride him with such approval written across his face that it spurs me faster, knowing he’s liking what I’m doing and what he sees.

His hands leave my waist to drift up to my breasts, pinching them but being mindful of my still-healing piercings.

“I fucking love these,” he says, and I smile at the hunger in his eyes as he stares at the jewelry.

“I love how much you love them.”

His muscles tense under my hands.

“Do you feel it?”

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