Page 89 of Habits

No words, only actions.

So I show him.

I kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

Only today.

Only now.

Only this moment.

They belong to us.

Only us.

I kiss him like he’s my air and my water and everything in between.

My hand slides down his chest, fingers dipping into the waistband of his jeans.

“I need you,” I whisper, almost desperately. “I need you, Andrew.”

He helps me pull down his pants and kicks them off the bed.

As soon as his cock is free, I wrap my hand around it tightly. I work his length, putting the pressure just the way I know he likes it, my thumb swiping over his angry red head and smearing pre-come around it.

His head falls back as he moans. I kiss down his chest, ready to take him in my mouth, but he doesn’t let me.

He throws me back on the mattress gently.

“Inside,” he grits through clenched teeth. My legs fall open. Waiting. Anticipating. I can see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead and determination shine in his eyes. “I need to be inside you.”

His hands tangle in my hair as he kisses me almost desperately.

I can feel his body weight press into mine and I welcome it with open arms, and then he’s inside of me.

I whimper, a mix of pain and pleasure as he enters my body in one swift movement. My legs wrap around him, heels digging into his ass and pulling him closer.

So good.

So perfect.

Andrew keeps kissing me as he moves inside me.

All over my face and chest, his hands touch everywhere he can. He plunges inside, hard and fast, hitting just the right spot, and I match him thrust for thrust.

“More,” I breathe, pressing my lips against his. “I need more.”

Over and over again, he gives me what I need. He retreats, only his tip brushing against my entrance, teasing, and then he plunges inside.

Harder.

Deeper.

My back arches off the mattress, yearning for his touch.

“Andrew …”

I force my eyes open, so I can see his face. Brushing a damp strand of hair off his forehead, I press closer against him, and our lips touch, trembling.

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