Page 65 of Coach
Saul’s head shifted, moving across my chest, continuing the sweet torment as my hips became wilder as the need clawed at me.
He licked, sucked, grazed, nipped until I was trembling with need. Only then did he lift his head, his mouth finding mine again.
It was slower for a beat, almost tender. But it wasn’t long before the kiss deepened, spiraled back into the frantic need, each roll of my hips pulling us tighter into the inevitability of what was to come.
There was no going back.
We were both too far gone, too lost in the sensations, in each other.
My breath stuttered as I ground down again, bare skin meeting the rough fabric of his pants. The friction was maddening, sharp, delicious.
Saul’s hands tightened on my hips, guiding my rhythm, holding me more firmly against him.
I pulled back to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, his chest heaving.
For a heartbeat, it was all there in his face. Want, yes, but also need, vulnerability, reverence. Like I was both the fire and the only thing shielding him from it.
The look made me ache in a different way.
I kissed him again, softer, deeper.
Then my teeth snagged his lower lip as my hips rolled against him.
Saul groaned, breaking the kiss.
“Fuck,” he muttered, voice hoarse.
His hands slid between us, reaching to free himself so I could grind against him without the barrier.
A shudder racked me at the bare brush of him, the warmth of his skin, the velvet smoothness of him.
Saul leaned forward, his lips going to my neck even as he reached out to the side, sliding open a drawer, and coming back with protection even as his tongue flicked the pulse point in my throat.
He let me ride him for another moment before reaching between, protecting us, then encouraging me to lower down again.
His hand gripped my hips hard, holding me steady as my movements got wild, rhythmless as the need clawed at me.
On a frustrated whimper, I pulled against him, lifting up, positioning over him.
When he finally pressed into me, it was all heat and stretch, a slight ache that melted into something overwhelming.
“Fuck,” he gasped, voice breaking as he sank in deeper. His arms were around me tight, holding me like he’d never let me go.
My hips met his, and my walls clenched around him, the fullness leaving me gasping.
I dropped my forehead to his, lips brushing his as our breaths tangled.
My hips did a tiny circle, making Saul swear, low and rough, like the feel of me was wrecking him.
His hands gripped my hips, steadying me as I started to move.
At first, it was tentative, just a kind of rocking against him. But the friction built fast, the clawing sensation growing unbearable.
I braced my hands on his shoulders, riding him harder, the slick slide of our bodies filling the room with breathless, wet sounds.
Saul’s hips pressed up to meet my movements, each thrust hitting just right, dragging a moan from deep in my chest.
His name slipped out of me, helpless.
