Page 63 of You Can't Fight Lightning
And through it all, he kept his eyes on mine.
Eye contact in sex is not as easy as you’d think. You were exposed, not just because you were naked, with all your physical self out there. But because you were letting someone see you without any artifice, just as you were.
To hold one another’s gaze—you were letting them see into your soul.
Sex had never been just sex for me. I mean, I’d experienced some wild sex with my boyfriends before.
But this was something I’d never had, never felt.
It was as though there were tiny orgasms going off all throughout my body—that moment just as you crest, as you fall over the edge, and your body isn’t entirely your own. When it’s off in the cosmos, and you’re nothing but a form in the midst of pleasure.
That’s what having sex with Z was like. Orgasms all over, every movement one of extreme pleasure.
Maybe I didn’t care if this was part of the razzle dazzle.
Suddenly I was on my back, and he settled himself between my legs, snugging his hips to mine, his cock buried to the hilt within me.
“What just happened?” I felt a little silly asking, but I had to.
“You were lost in your mind. I want you here with me.”
“Here with you?” I gasped as he withdrew slightly.
Then he thrust home.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak.
“There’s nowhere else I could be. You’re all around me. Everywhere.” I managed to get all of that out. At least, I think I did.
A satisfied expression settled on his face, and his blue eyes sparkled like the evening sky. “That’s more like it.”
I opened my mouth to speak again, but I lost whatever I was going to say because Z drove into me, hard, full.
He was done talking.
Okay. There’d be time later.
Z stretched himself out on top of me, taking my hands in his and twining his fingers through mine. Then he stretched my arms wide over my head and drove into me.
“Oh!”
I’m sure I said more. I’d probably hear about it from my neighbor, Mrs. Carmody. I fell into the pleasure he offered and didn’t look back.
Over and over he drove into me. I arched my back, wanting more. I spread my legs, allowing him to get closer.
Then he slowed his pace.
My legs went around his back and pulled him to me.
His chuckle was a light touch across my sensitive skin, making me writhe against him. I was close.
He moved so slowly I thought I might expire, but like me earlier, he wouldn’t be rushed. Over and over, he brought me to the edge of release, only to stop, pull back, or move even more slowly. Then he would pound himself against me until I wasn’t sure of my own name.
I was so hearing from Mrs. Carmody in the morning. I just knew it.
“Z!” I screamed his name.
He thrust home once, twice, a third time, and this time, he didn’t stop.
