Page 63 of Depths of Desire
He let out a soft breath, but it wasn’t a laugh this time. It was a desperate, devastating need. Pure and present and pulsing just beneath the surface. His hands moved, one slipping behind my neck to pull me down, the other tracing along the hem of my shirt.
I met his mouth like I was starving for it.
And I was.
The kiss deepened instantly, no warm-up needed. Tongues tangling, teeth grazing. His hand slipped under my shirt and dragged nails down my spine, and I groaned into him, pressing harder.
He was fire and want and everything I’d been aching for.
I peeled my shirt off, tossed it somewhere—I didn’t care where—and settled over him fully. Our chests met, bare skin to bare skin, and he let out the smallest sound at the contact. Like I’d knocked the breath out of him in the best possible way.
My sweatpants and boxer briefs followed quickly, kicked off in a tangle of limbs and urgent need. When my cock finallybrushed against his, we both moaned at the contact. He was so hard, so ready, and I could feel the slick heat of him against my skin.
“Condom,” I panted against his mouth.
“Bedside table.” His voice was wrecked already.
I reached over blindly, fumbling in the drawer until I found what I needed. My hands shook as I tore open the package, whether from nerves or anticipation, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both.
Lennox took it from me, his touch gentle as he rolled it down my length. The simple contact made me hiss through my teeth.
“You okay?” he asked, searching my face.
“Perfect.” And I meant it. “You?”
Instead of answering, he reached for the lube, slicking me up with slow, deliberate strokes that had me seeing stars. When he guided my cock to his hole, pressing the head against that tight ring of muscle, I had to close my eyes and count to ten.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine, dark, trusting, full of something that made my chest tight.
I pushed forward slowly, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. He was so tight, so perfect, and when I was finally seated fully inside him, we both exhaled shakily.
“Fuck me,” he breathed. “Please.”
I started slow, shallow thrusts that had him gripping my shoulders. But it wasn’t enough—not for either of us. He wrapped his legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I let myself go.
I fucked him the way I’d been dreaming about for days, hard, deep, and claiming. The bed frame creaked with our rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. He was so responsive, meeting every thrust, his cock trapped between our bellies and leaking steadily.
“Harder,” he gasped. “God, yes, just like that.”
I angled my hips, hitting that spot inside him that made him arch off the bed with a sharp cry. His nails raked down my back, and I knew I’d have marks tomorrow. The thought thrilled me.
“You feel so good,” I panted against his neck. “So perfect. Like you were made for me.”
“Was,” he choked out. “Was made for you. Only you.”
The admission broke something loose in my chest. I captured his mouth in a bruising kiss, pouring everything I couldn’t say into the connection between us. He kissed back just as desperately, like I was air and he was drowning.
I could feel him getting close, the way his breathing hitched, how he clenched around me with every thrust. I reached between us, wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking in time with my movements.
“Come for me,” I whispered against his ear. “Want to feel you fall apart.”
It only took a few more strokes before he was crying out my name, his body going rigid as he came hard between us. The feeling of him clenching around my cock, the sight of his face twisted in ecstasy, was enough to push me over the edge.
I buried myself deep inside him and let go, my orgasm hitting me like a train. Stars exploded behind my eyelids as I filled the condom, my whole body shaking with the force of it.
We stayed like that for long moments, both of us trying to catch our breath. Finally, I pulled out carefully and disposed of the condom, then collapsed beside him on the bed.
