Page 39 of Edge of Ruin
And we never will. According to you.
I shoved the bleak thought away. I would not let anything screw this up. Not my fears, not the Brian fallout. Not even the plain, undecorated truth.
To hell with the plain truth. Who needed it. I would just live the fantasy for now.
It was time to change the vibe and distract us both, so I kneeled down and unzipped my bright purple down sleeping bag with the lavender nylon lining, spreading it out over the futon mattress.
I curled up, tits stuck out, hair wild and touseled, and looked up seductively through my eyelashes at him. “So? And now?”
He sank down, his face still cautious. “Do you need to be on top?”
I thought about it for a moment. “I think I’m shaking too hard,” I confessed. “I don’t think I’d even be able to stay upright. I’m melting.”
He looked worried. “But I’m big. I wouldn’t want you to?—”
“Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my finger at him. “Don’t you worry. I won’t flip out on you. I know where I am, and whom I’m with.”
He smiled, cautiously relieved. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, God, yes,” I assured him. “And I love it that you’re big. It’s hot. Bring it on.” I twisted my hand appreciatively over his cockhead, spreading around the slick precome.
His face and neck went rigid. “Oh, God,” he muttered. “You’re laying all the responsibility onto me, huh?”
“You can take it,” I informed him cheerfully. “I have faith.”
He put his hand on my belly, stroking me with a light hand. As if I were some delicate, exotic creature that he didn’t want to frighten.
I stared at his hand, blinking at another rush of tears. Moved by how worried he was. Tender and gentle. Big, yummy, succulent. And he needed to get on with it. Now.
I grabbed the hand that was petting me and gave it a yank. “Get down here,” I ordered him. “I want to feel you. On top. All over me.”
He allowed himself to be dragged down. I opened my legs and tried to roll him over on top of myself, but he pulled away from me.
“Wait. Hold on.” He groped for the condoms. “Let me deal with the practical details before I completely lose my mind.”
He fumbled the latex on one-handed, and finally, I managed to pull him down on top of me. I twined my arms and legs around him and squeezed. The sweet shock of his hot body against mine opened the leaky tear faucet again, and off I went.
Jack looked into my wet eyes, alarmed. “Vivi? Are you okay?”
“Fine, great, fabulous,” I assured him. “You just feel wonderful. It makes me weepy, but don’t worry about it. Not a problem. It’s all good.”
He stared into my face, his eyes soft, and kissed the tears away from my cheekbones and my temples. Oh, Lord, he felt so good. My hands were going crazy with so much to choose from: his thick shoulders; his powerful back; his taut, muscular ass; that dark, shaggy mane of silky hair tickling my neck. The urgent prod of his cock against my thigh. He wasn’t hurrying me at all, but I felt it, eager and stiff, throbbing hopefully while he kissed my neck, my breasts. Caressing my pussy, spreading my lube all around to ease his way.
The wild fluttering anticipation kept rising. This was really happening.
He lifted his head, unexpectedly and gave me his now familiar master-and-commander stare. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
I tried not to giggle. It was too frivolous for the vibe. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I want to hear the words.”
I reached down and gripped his cock, squeezing it through the thin barrier of latex. “This is another kinky power game, right?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
I writhed beneath his weight, arching until I could press the thick bulb of his penis against the slick opening of my pussy, and with some breathless wiggling, forced him inside. He felt huge, unyielding.
“Please,” I whispered. “Put your cock into me.”
