Page 42 of Roughing It

So I do—like it’s my only purpose in life. I lift her by the small of her back, seating her on my cock as I split her open, and she thrusts down as best as she can, holding me with a tight grip that damn near steals my breath.

I give a sharp thrust, and she lets out a hard grunt, squeezing around me. Lifting her higher onto my lap, I grip her by the hair and kiss her. “I’m not going to last,” I say into the kiss. “Baby, I can’t…” I can already feel my orgasm cresting.

“Touch me,” she moans. “Touch me. I’m right there with you.”

I manage to get my hand between us, pushing my thumb between her folds. She’s pressed tight against me, but I have just enough room to rub circles over her clit, and I can feel her pussy spasm around me, like it’s trying to take me deeper.

My knees brace against the bed harder, and I use the leverage I have with my one arm to lift her up so I can fuck her harder, faster, deeper. My eyes slam shut, and I’m trying to kiss her, but we’re mostly just panting into each other’s mouths as I feel the pleasure build at the base of my spine.

My balls go a little tighter, and then I’m crashing. I don’t remember falling forward, but when I come to, I’m hovering over her, gazes locked, her lips gently parted. She’s still quivering around me slightly as I soften, sending softer tendrils of ecstasy through my limbs.

The moment felt like it had gone on for eternity, though I know it was only a handful of minutes, and I don’t know how to process it. Sex has never been like that before. It’s never been that rough, yet that tender. It’s never been warm, and all-encompassing, and just…

Hell, it was just fuckinggood.

After a long beat, her hand lifts to touch the side of my face, and I nuzzle into her. I’ve never been one for cuddling after. My ex hated it, and that worked for me because by the time we were done, I felt like I’d run a marathon, and I just wanted to clean up and sleep.

Now, I drop to my side and manage to get the condom off before it makes a mess. When I toss it into the bin, she’s already reaching for me, and it takes no effort at all to pull her against my body and press delicate kisses along the side of her neck.

“I hope that was okay,” I can’t help but mumble. “It’s been a while for me.”

She snorts and smacks me on the arm. “Shut up. That was amazing, and if you deny it, you’re a fucking liar.”

I grin, so wide it hurts my cheeks, and I gnaw at the top of her shoulder. “It was fucking amazing. It…”

My brain kind of goes white noise then—a bit of aphasia kicking in. It’s easier to say nothing than to get the words wrong and have to explain myself later, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She just strokes light fingers over my arm, and together in the dim light of the stormy morning, we lie there and simply exist.

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