Page 55 of Need Him Like Oxygen

It wasn’t long, though, before the need grew to a fever pitch in me, making me slam back into his thrusts.

Harder.

Faster.

When the orgasm coursed through me, intensified by the fullness of him, his hand slapped over my mouth, muffling my loud cries as the pulsations of pleasure racked my system.

But when I came back down, I found him still rock-hard inside of me.

“Been waiting weeks, love,” he said, using the hand over my mouth to pull my back against his chest as he slowly started to rock into me again, smaller, gentler motions. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His lips pressed into my neck, a sweet trail of kisses that made my belly flip-flop and that swooping sensation soaring through my chest.

One of his hands was around my hips, the other slid across my chest, holding me against him as he continued his gentle, unhurried strokes into me.

He was holding onto me like something precious, like he never wanted to let go.

It should have freaked me out, made me feel trapped, had me fighting to get away.

But I sank back into him, my head falling back onto his shoulder, eyes drifting closed, just letting myself have this moment, letting myself be held, letting him move inside of me in that soft, sweet way.

And as he drove me up slowly, I felt him again.

Seeping into my chest, spreading, filling me up.

“You feel so good, Cin,” he groaned in my ear as I tightened, as the pressure built, this deep clenching sensation before, almost in slow motion, the orgasm crested in slow, intense throbs of pleasure that had my legs shaking and a choked sob escaping me. “Just let go,” he murmured into my ear. “I’ve got you.”

Just for that moment, he did.

And I let him.

By the time the orgasm finally eased, I felt dampness in my eyes, so I squeezed them tight against, terrified the saltwater might break free and trail down my cheeks, evidence of the intensity of the feelings surging through me in that moment.

Fear, the likes of which I didn’t truly understand but felt the need to fight against, had me moving backward.

Dav obliged, walking us backward until he dropped his ass onto Renzo’s couch with me on his lap.

The only thing I could think to do was change the feeling of that moment. To reclaim this as something more primal, less emotional.

So I reached down, grabbing his knees to steady myself, and started to fuck him.

Hard.

Fast.

Desperate.

Familiar.

Physical.

Uncomplicated.

“Fuck, Cinna, I love how you ride my cock,” Dav groaned, his voice tight, his hands slipping under my shirt to grab my tits. “Fuck, that’s it,” he hissed as my moans grew, as my walls tightened. “Come around my cock, baby.”

And just like that, I did.

Hard.

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