Page 55 of Ask Me Something

He stood and thrust into me, prolonging my orgasm. My core muscles clenched, making me impossibly tight around him.

He paused for a moment, and when I met his gaze, the restraint was evident in his expression. “You okay?”

I nodded, and he pushed in further. I moaned with unfiltered pleasure.

“You feel incredible.” The angle with my feet up by his head made this the deepest he’d ever been inside of me. His pace quickened as I accommodated his size.

My body started to respond to the spot he was hitting with focused intent. I’d always believed a purely intercourse-induced orgasm was a myth, so it took me completely off guard when the climax ripped through me. His groan echoed in the room before he stilled inside of me.

Kissing the inside of my right calf, he rubbed some circulation back into it before taking it off his shoulder and then did the same for the other. “I wish we didn’t have to catch a flight in a few hours.” He climbed into the bed, enveloping me into his warm body.

I buried my face in his neck and inhaled the masculine scent of him. “Me, either. And here I thought you we were going to do a sleepy making love thing.”

“Are you disappointed?” He bit my shoulder lightly.

“Not at all. It was merely unexpected.”

He kissed behind my ear, and I sighed with the delicious tingle it provided.

“I don’t make love.” He leaned back to meet my eyes.

“Ever?”

He chuckled. “Sure, when I was seventeen and sucked at it.”

“As previously established, I think we all did.”

“Does it offend you that I’d rather fuck you than make love?” His hands gripped my ass, and he pressed himself against me. He was already hard again.

“I think it turns me on more.” I whimpered when he threw one of my legs over his and brought our hips in line with one another.

“It’s more honest.”

“Why’s that?”

“Making love sort of implies that you’re in love. I’ve always had a tough time understanding how you make love with a stranger or how you make love when you don’t love that person.”

“Mm.” That made sense, but I was having a hard time concentrating when he rubbed against me.

“I don’t want to make you too sore,” he whispered, taking himself in his hand and stroking the tip of his cock against my tender cleft.

“I’ll have two weeks to recover.”

His smile made it obvious that I wouldn’t get any sleep the rest of the night.

* * *

The trip homewas quite a bit less energetic than the flight down since most of the guests were hungover or had enjoyed little to no sleep. Myself included. The soreness between my legs reminded me why.

It was a different cast of characters this time around. For one, Kenzie had gone back to California on another plane. Meanwhile, instead of Charlotte, we were stopping in Virginia, where Brian would depart with the rest of his family. The final stop was New York.

Catherine and I chatted for a few minutes but then both lay our heads back for a nap until the first stop. I knew that I wouldn’t get much of a chance to speak with Brian before he deplaned with his family. I wasn’t prepared for the longing I already felt over his impending departure.

“Is Brian coming to New York?” Catherine inquired.

I could feel the plane start to descend. “No, he’ll fly out from here back to his place in Charlotte.” I tried to hide my disappointment.

She stood up smiling. “I’m going to go talk to Will. I have another fashion shoot I’d like to discuss with him.”

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