I lifted my hips, a wordless demand for more.
He grinned and brought a finger up to circle the slick opening of my pussy. He slid it inside me as his tongue resumed flirting with my clit. But the way he had worked me up made the stretch of a single finger inadequate. I needed more.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I panted.
He stopped and looked up, his mouth and chin distractingly wet. “What?”
“Nothing!” I nearly screamed. “Please, keep going.”
New Zealanders were masters of understatement, so what I meant was, if he didn’t start moving his hand again, I was going to cause both of us serious harm.
Ever obliging, Chase pushed two fingers into me, curling them to reach that hard spot that I could never quite reach with my own hand. When my body convulsed, he stayed where he was, keeping his pace. The tension in my body was accumulating like a windup toy waddling toward the edge of a table. I clutched the yellow duvet in my other hand, not caring how much I messed up the covers. Chase’s free hand found mine, and he wove our fingers together so I could hold onto him as the tremors took over my body. It was tempting to stop him, the feelings were so much, but knowing I was the focus of Chase’s attention kept me rising to the biggest summit I’d ever felt. He laid me out, both my body and my feelings, and was ruthless in pursuit of narrowing my world down to him. And I would never get enough.
Then Chase rubbed the blunt spot inside of me in a way that pushed all rational thought from my head. I came, and it wasn’t quiet. I think it was very, very loud.
Because someone was screaming, and it wasn’t Chase.
Eventually, I registered Chase murmuring soft endearments, either to me or directly to my vagina. Both had earned it.
He crawled up my body and pressed a soft kiss to my sweaty forehead, “Are you tired, Floss? Would you like to sleep?”
He was unable to keep the smug look off his face. Fair enough.
“No.” I tugged him over me. “I have a condom in my bag—” I broke off when he held one of his own up, a brand I recognized. “Can I?”
He made a be-my-guest gesture, which might have seemed flippant, but I could see strain on his face. Solicitousness was the way he was wired, not disinterest or lack of enthusiasm.
I pinched the tip of the latex and rolled it down his plump and straining shaft, the springy hair at the base of his cock cushioning my hand. When I cupped his balls, he hissed.
Climbing over me, he braced his arms on either side of my head and I pressed a quick kiss to the inside of his bicep, which was hot and thick, like the rest of him.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he murmured.
“I can’t believe you’re talking instead of putting your dick in me,” I teased. “Come on, Chase, I have things to do.”
Instantly, I regretted saying that. His head swung down to his chest and he exhaled sharply. Words I’d meant to tease, to bait him as I usually did, had unintentionally hit deep.
“You better not be farewell fucking me, Caroline.” He growled. “No more running away.”
I shook my head. “No, of course not. Please. I want you inside me.”
He fisted himself at my entrance but then held still. I widened my legs, trying to hasten his entry, but he wouldn’t be rushed. Chase approached sex the same way he did everything else: carefully, methodically, and with unshakable control. Right now, that trait was horrible. I wanted more and I wanted it now.
As I watched helplessly, he fed me his cock by degrees, saying darkly, “You’re staying with me, Caroline. You’ll take all of me or none at all.”
“Yes,” I agreed quickly. “I will.”
He drew his hips back sharply, leaving me empty. I could’ve cried.
“Yes what?” he demanded.
“Yes to both!” I was gabbling now. “I won’t leave you, and I want your cock inside me, and those are separate things but equally true things, and I’m sorry I joked—” I broke off in a squeal when he thrust the whole way into me, flesh pushing through flesh in a way that made my mind melt.
I grabbed his face to make sure he was looking at me as I said, “I love you, Chase.”
His face was taut with the tension of holding still, but his eyes softened and he nodded.
For good measure, I said it again.