Page 69 of Mistaken Impression

Finally, he collapses on top of me, spent, and then pulls us over, so we’re lying, my back to his front, still joined, both breathless.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, his arms tight around me.

“Why? Why would you be sorry?”

“Because I went a bit caveman on you at the end.”

I chuckle. “I’m not complaining.”

“Good. I don’t think there’s much I could have done about it.” He kisses my neck and shoulders, and I twist around slightly, looking up at him. He smiles, then kisses my lips, slowly pulling out of me. “I won’t be a minute. I just need the bathroom.”

I nod my head and watch him walk to the stairs, disappearing down them. My body aches, but I shift back up the bed a little, my head resting on the pillows, and I straighten the covers, pulling them up over me, just as Mac returns, the smile still etched on his lips.

“You look so good in my bed.” He climbs in beside me and I snuggle down, my head on his chest as he wraps me in his arms.

“This feels nice.”

“Hmm… it does.”

He kisses the top of my head and I listen to his heartbeat as my eyes flutter closed.

It’s the sunlight on my face that wakes me, and I blink a few times, remembering where I am.

I’m at Mac’s place, in his bed, and I can’t help smiling as I stare across the expanse of his apartment to the windows beyond. It’s very open-plan here, so although we’re upstairs in his bedroom, the main wall, which is made entirely of glass panels, lets the morning sunshine into the entire apartment. We’re not overlooked, though, and I gaze at the clear blue sky for a moment or two, stretching my arms and legs, my muscles aching, and my smile widens, as I recall all the things we did together last night… all the things we said.

“Are you awake?” I turn to find Mac staring down at me, his deep blue eyes fixing mine, as he reaches out, cups my face and leans in to kiss me. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, shall I?”

I chuckle and snuggle up closer to him. He puts his arms around me, kissing me again, only this time, he deepens it, his tongue finding mine, and despite the aches, my body’s already humming with need for him.

“Shall I make us breakfast?” he asks, pulling back eventually. “Or are you not particularly hungry again?”

“Not especially.”

He licks his lips. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

He leaps out of bed, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him, and he drags me to the stairs, leading me down them and toward the front door, stopping short of it, and taking me into the bathroom, on the right.

Inside, he guides me straight to the shower, switching on the water, and turns to face me, bending his head and kissing me, yet again. I bring my arms around his neck, my body crushed against his, and he cups my ass in his hands, pulling me onto his erection. I sigh in to him, and he groans, swiveling his hips as the water cascades between us.

After a few minutes, he pulls back, tilting his head, and without a word, he reaches for the soap. I feel a little disappointed. I guess I’d hoped for something more than a wash, but I watch as he lathers up his hands, and then, without taking his eyes from mine, puts the soap back, and lowers them.

“You wanted to watch me… remember?”

He places his hands around his arousal, soaping it up, and then moves his left one away and leans back against the wall, his right hand stroking along his length. I stand, mesmerized, noting that every time he reaches the tip, he gives himself a gentle squeeze, and that he sometimes twists his hand just slightly, too. I raise my eyes to find he’s staring at me, breathing hard.

“Do you want to join in?”

“In what way?” I’m not sure if he wants me to touch myself, or him, but he answers the question by reaching out and taking my hand, placing it around his erection, and then putting his back on top. He starts to move again, groaning as he guides me, and then he removes his hand and leaves me to my own devices. I move closer, standing slightly to one side and lean up to kiss him while he puts his arm around me, my breasts pressed hard against his chest as I pump him, harder and harder.

“Oh… fuck… I’m gonna come.” I increase the pace, squeezing a little more firmly, and he lowers his hand, grabbing my ass. “Please, Ella… Yes!” His body tenses, he throws back his head, his erection hardening and thickening in my hand and then it jerks, jets of fluid spurting up the opposite wall in long, thick streams.

His chest is heaving as he struggles to breathe, but he’s barely finished, when he lowers his head, his eyes boring into mine. I’m about to ask if it was okay, when he picks me up and turns me, slamming me up against the wall. Then he grabs my hands and pulls them up above my head, holding them therewith one of his, while the other moves straight down between my legs. I spread them, but he kicks them a little wider apart, inserting a finger inside me, which makes me gasp, as he leans in.

“You’re so wet.”

“I know. I want you.”

“You can have me… later. But for now, I need to make you come.”

---