Page 25 of It's Complicated

Not caring about anything other than keeping the kiss going, I wrapped my arms around him, holding him closer.

The hand on my shoulder slid down my chest, then over my side, and all the way to my outer thigh, squeezing greedily as he moved down my body.

My dick was so hard it ached. I tried to ignore it and focus on the kiss, but the moment was too much.

This wasn’t just about physical desire. I had that going in spades, but it was the emotional closeness that made me crave more.

More of what, I had no idea. Just more.

Jamie groaned and rocked his hips so he frotted against me in time with his kisses.

My head spun, my body so tight I was already on the edge of coming.

“Z,” he whispered against my mouth, shifting so our dicks slotted together, making every rock of his hips feel like he was stroking me with his hand.

“Jamie,” I rasped, unable to say more.

Shamelessly, I lifted my foot off the floor and wrapped my leg around his thighs. Using the leverage it gave me, I rocked with him, frotting against him as he ravaged my mouth with deep, drugging kisses.

I didn’t want the moment to end, but all too soon, I found myself hurtling toward my release, powerless to stop it and terrified of what would happen when I came crashing back to earth. Clinging to Jamie like a crazed koala, I kissed him back with everything I had and rocked against him hard and fast. I needed to see him come again.

He stopped kissing me, his lips hovering over mine, as his breathing went harsh and he shook in my arms.

He was close. I could feel it.

“That’s it,” I whispered, staring up at him in rapt fascination. Once again, I wanted his orgasm more than I wanted my own. “Come for me, Jamie.”

He stiffened, and his mouth fell open, but instead of the silent cry I’d seen last time, a loud, reedy groan escaped him as he shuddered against me.

I tried to stave off my own orgasm, not ready to let go, but seeing Jamie come again was too much.

The pressure inside me reached a flash point, then bubbled over in a wave of pleasure so strong it knocked me stupid.

We clung to each other as we came, desperately frotting against each other as we wrung every single drop of pleasure out of our orgasms as we could until we collapsed in a boneless heap.

When I could string two thoughts together again, I found Jamie staring down at me, his blissful expression replaced by one of shock.

“Did we just fuck everything up?” he asked, the thread of panic in his voice clear.

“No,” I said firmly. “Nothing is fucked up.”

Slowly, Jamie sat up.

It took us a moment to untangle ourselves, and we settled on the couch in our original positions, sitting side by side and facing each other. Only this time there was about a foot of space between us.

How had we gone from trash-talking and wrestling to making out and practically humping each other on the couch?

I searched Jamie’s face. Was he freaking out?

“So, that happened.” He cleared his throat and shot me a wobbly smile.

“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck absently. “It did.”

“Do you regret it?” he asked softly, his gaze on the floor between our feet.

“No,” I said firmly.

He blew out a little breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Me either.”

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