“I’m lubed. Feel.” I notch him at my hole and snap my hips back, impaling myself on his erection in one quick glide.
He grips my shoulders and groans. His head hits the door. Having him inside me again is so good, sonecessary, my eyes fall closed, and my lips part with a helpless moan.
“I missed you, too,” he says, his voice deep and hoarse with desire. His hands move across my abs as we fuck with his back against the door. His cock fits me so well, it’s no wonder I’ve craved him so much. But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he touches me. Digs his nails into me, like he’s trying to claw off a piece to take with him when he goes.
I know what I feel for him is more than want or “like” by now. After dozens of phone calls while he’s out of town and all the mornings we spent together before he left to be sworn in, I’m fucking crazy about him. And I know without having to ask that I’m his first stop after returning to the city.
He’s still waffling about telling Avery about us since she isn’t pregnant yet, and I’ve thought about whether what we’re doing is shitty and wrong—adultery or whatever. But the one time I thought about calling it off—Christmas Eve when we were with our respective families, and Avery was ovulating again—he’d sent me a text sayingI wish you were with me tonight, and I knew I couldn’t let him go.
It’s enough to know I’m the one he wants, and since I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him, I want him to have everything his heart desires.
I guess that makes me an idiot, but at the moment, I’m a very well-fucked idiot, and no one’s complaining.
“That’s it,” he murmurs between my shoulder blades. “You feel so good, Sy. Please don’t stop.”
Our affair in a nutshell. I won’t stop. I can’t stop. I need him.
I jerk myself in time with his steady thrusts, whimpering softly with how goddam right he feels inside me.He’s home. “Give me everything.”
Wrapping one arm around my middle, he holds me in place as he comes. The burst of heat, the pressure against my prostate, and my own firm grip send me spinning off the edge of my own cliff.
After a few frozen seconds of ecstasy, we crumple against the door, his breath heavy on the back of my neck, my hand coated with cum. He’s still inside me—aftershocks twitching through us and making me see stars.
When I can speak, I say, “I meant to make you a drink first.”
“With lube in your ass?”
I duck my head and laugh softly. No points for subtlety. “You caught me.”
He kisses my neck and pulls his cock from my hole. I immediately want to plug myself to keep every drop of him in. I pull up my sweatpants before turning to face him.
He’s putting his pants back together, looking at me through the mess of his fallen hair. God, he’s sexy. I wishIcould have his babies. Immediately I start to fuss with him, pushing his hair back from his face, straightening his collar. “How was the ride up? You took the train?”
“Yeah,” he says, still breathless and sweaty. He made it onto the judicial committee which was what he wanted and a huge deal for him, but we’ve talked about that already, and he’s got mixed feeling because he thinks it was due to his father’s connections. Still, his appeal has only improved since his time away. He’s an actual senator now. The smartest man I know, and easily the hottest.
I don’t have much to offer in the way of stimulating intellectualdiscourse, so I hope good sex is enough to help him overlook all the reasons we shouldn’t be happening. But I also don’t want him to think fucking him is the only reason I want him around.
He took an early train home to see me first, but I know Avery’s expecting him later. “How much time do we have?”
“A few hours. Is that okay?”
“One of these days we need to figure out how we can spend the night together again.”
“You’d want that?” he asks, sounding surprised.
“Sure. It’d be fun.” I shrug the suggestion off like it’s no big deal. We’ve certainly been known to do plenty of damage to each other in a few hours, but with a whole night? Maybe drinks, dinner, a movie…falling asleep together. Showering together…
Jesus, I’m a mess. “You hungry?” I ask.
“Are you?”
“Not really.”
He eyes me up and down. “I could use a shower.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He stares at me expectantly. “Did you want me to clean myself?”