Page 83 of Next Time I Fall (Excess All Areas 2)

He’d not been an asshole to the women he slept with. He’d made sure they’d gotten off before he did, but it had often felt transactional. And he’d been great at getting women from A to Z as quickly as possible. All with the sole intent of being able to get off himself.

But with Cerys, her experience mattered more than his own.

She mattered.

“You getting everything you need?” he asked.

“I just need you.”

“Good answer.”

Cerys wrapped her arms around him, and he lowered himself, using one hand to ease into her as he did so.

“Jesus, babe,” he gasped as he inched deeper. She was so ready for him. Feelings clattered through him like an out-of-control freight train. She was home. His home. He’d finally found his place in the universe. And goddamn was she tight around him, squeezing him in a way he knew would multiply when she came, and he couldn’t fucking wait. He wanted her, right then and there. He wanted to fuck her, push into her as far as he could go, as far as she’d let him. But he wanted it to last for the next ten minutes, ten months, and ten years.

Everything about her called to him.

She understood him.

And she had the sweetest-tasting magical pussy in the universe.

He pulled out and sank in further, feeling her hips roll, feeling as unified with her as a person could be. “Cerys,” he grunted, barely able to get the word past his lips.

“You feel so thick,” she gasped.

“Too much?” he asked. Praying to God he wasn’t, because while he could stop if he had to, he’d be headed straight to the bathroom to finish himself off.

“No. Too good. I might come again.”

He looked into her eyes, all glassy and aroused. A pink colour across her cheeks. “Best. Fucking. Compliment.”

Her hands slid down his back, over his arse. Short nails digging in, urging him faster. When her knuckle returned to the spot it had been in before, he bucked. “Yeah. Fuck. Not helping if you need me to last,” he said, clenching every muscle he had to stave off his own orgasm. It felt too good.

“Who said I needed you to last, Jase? I’m—”

He felt her body arch, saw her mouth open in a gasp, her eyes roll back. But most of all, he felt the spasms of her walls around him. So. Fucking. Tight. He could barely breathe.

“Jase,” she cried.

He pressed his lips to hers. No kisses, just open-mouthed gasps as he let go of any restraint. Knowing she’d already come twice, knowing he’d given her that. Knowing that she wasn’t expecting him to wait.

Fuck.

His thrusts increased in speed, in depth, as he hammered into her.

Sensation after sensation, and fuck, were there lights sparkling in the corner of his eyes as he chased the heady experience?

He gripped her hips, holding on to her as if his life depended on it.

Her hands cupped his face, her eyes fixed on his, as his world exploded. Pulse after pulse of sensation that left his head spinning and his body shaking. All he could do was grunt. Moan maybe. There should be words.

Fuck, she’d even asked for them. Dirty words.

Raw words. Words of meaning.

Words that might tell her just what she was doing to him.

But he couldn’t. Too wrapped up in his own sensations. In the rush of blood to his head.

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