Page 64 of Conspiracies and Chemistry

“Stop being smug and fuck me,” she growled.

I noted a finger vibe I’d use later, then I set the lube and a condom on the bed.

When I shucked off my boxers, she licked her lips. “On second thought, why don’t I suck you off?”

My fingers froze on the condom wrapper. “That sounds amazing, but I’m right on the edge. I want to come inside you.” Like a caveman, I wanted her to feel me inside her, to leave an imprint there as if that were possible. Sex does funny things to people’s otherwise rational brains. I had enough presence of mind to add, “If that’s okay.”

“You won’t be grossed out?”

“Why would I be grossed out? I love your body. It’s doing what it’s meant to do.”

Her lips wobbled for a second, then her expression neutralized. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Before she could change her mind, I rolled on the condom and squirted lube into my palm. I slicked up the condom quickly, then I touched a slippery finger to her outer lips. She hissed.

“Still good?” I asked, smearing the liquid over her.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure I’d be ready again so soon, but I guess”—her breath stuttered—“I guess I am.”

I slipped a finger inside her, and she groaned. “More.”

I swiped up the rest of the lube from my palm and pushed two fingers inside her. She ground against my hand, gasping when my palm touched her clit. “Now, Oliver,” she said.

My fingers made juicy sounds against her skin, and she was open and ready. I was ready, probably too ready. Silently, I started counting down from one hundred as I slipped my fingers from her body. Grasping the base of the condom, I nudged her opening with my head. Then I thrust in.

Her muscles fluttered around me, and it was all I could do to keep counting. I stilled, adjusting to the pressure as my balls tightened. I couldn’t go off like a teenager. I had to prove to this woman I had some control. I took a centering breath and gazed down at her.

She watched me with an unfamiliar expression. Was it uncertainty that made her bite her lip?

Bracing on my hands, I leaned forward and kissed her, trying to reassure her—maybe myself too—that we were good, that neither of us had anything to fear. Not from each other, and not from this new intimacy. For once, I wasn’t thinking about work. All that mattered was the amazing woman beneath me with her glorious body and her beautiful face.

When I pulled back to admire her, her expression went hazy. “Do that again,” she murmured.

I leaned down to kiss her, pouring every bit of reassurance I could into it. The fact that we were coworkers, our age gap, our wildly different perspectives on risk, none of it mattered. Our bodies knew it. We only had to convince our brains. Her body tightened around me, and I pulled back again.

“Are you close?” I asked. “Just from kissing?”

“Justfrom kissing?” She gripped my ass, her short nails digging into my skin and making me grunt. “Five minutes ago, I came so hard I saw stars. Your dick is inside me, and you’re kissing me like it’s your job. How do you do that?”

“What can I say? I’m a natural. And I like to be thorough.” I wished it was my job to kiss her. It was effortless, unlike my real job. So I did it again, and this time when she constricted around me, I pulled out then snapped my hips forward, tapping her clit with my stomach. Nonsense words poured out of my mouth, praising her body and telling her how good it felt.

“God, yes,” she said against my mouth.

I thrust into her again. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me closer until our hips met. I ground against her. It was all I could do to hold off until I felt the compression of her orgasm as she let out a hoarse cry. Finally, I let myself thrust wildly into her until my release surged through me, pleasure flooding all the way to my toes.

When my rational brain came back online, my shoulders stiffened. She’d said sex could be painful when it was too vigorous, and I’d lost control. “Did I hurt you? Was that too much?”

She grasped the back of my head and pulled me down for another kiss, this one softer, more constrained. “It was perfect. But no pet names.”

“Pet names?” I glanced around for one of the cats.

“You called me baby. The first time, when you went down on me, and again just now.”

“Did I?” I vaguely remembered it, but I’d said a lot of stuff.

“Did you forget? You’re not even the one who’s been taking prescription painkillers.”

Was she arguing with me while I was still inside her? “What’s wrong with baby?”

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