Page 101 of Be My First

He smirks. “We’ll see about that, Junie.”

Afterward, once I’ve crashed back down to earth, I say, “I think you moved the bed like five feet.”

He laughs. “You told me not to hold back.”

I lean forward and kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t. I loved it.”

We fucked in four different positions, and he made me come so hard I thought I might black out.

“You really took me like a champ. I was skeptical.”

“I know but I took every inch of you, and now that’s we’re talking about it, you’re getting me worked up again.”

“Already? After that? We were making so much noise I was afraid Rodriguez or O’Shay was going to break down the door to rescue you,” he says.

I giggle. “That would have been awkward.”

I stare at the ceiling for a minute. That was...animalistic. He took complete control, pulling me around like a rag doll. Flipping me into different positions. Dragging me across the bed. I loved it. God, I really loved it.

When I close my eyes, I almost feel like I’m still moving – the way you do when you get off a trampoline or a boat. He was fucking me so hard, for so long, he’s thrown off my equilibrium. I almost laugh out loud.

“Why are you smiling?” He asks.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “Just wondering if you make every girl you’re with feel this good.”

He stills beside me. I open my eyes. He doesn’t look happy. “I don’t want to talk about anyone else when I’m with you.”

I didn’t mean to upset him. “Sorry.”

He starts kissing my neck again and murmurs, “That’s okay but in here. It’s only us.”

“It’s only us,” I repeat. He sits up and smiles at me. He is gorgeous. There’s no other way to describe him. Devastatingly gorgeous – especially right now because he looks like he just fucked. I didn’t even know it was possible to be this attracted to someone.

He starts playing with my necklace – the only thing I’m wearing.

“I didn’t get you anything,” I say, looking down at it.

He laughs. “I’m not wearing a necklace.”

“Don’t you want something to remember this trip?” I ask, turning my eyes toward him.

He kisses my forehead. “Maggie’s doing a painting for me, remember?”

“Did you decide what you wanted yet? I ask.

He gives me a sly look and then says, “I told her I wanted the Spanish steps.

“Not the cave in Capri?” I ask, giving him a wicked look.

He chuckles. “I’m not interested in any erotic art. I’d like to hang it in my house..”

“Oh, come on. It would be a great conversation piece,” I joke.

“Yeah. Maybe I need to get that on some dinner plates or something.”

“I’d come to that dinner party,” I say.

“I bet you would.” He kisses my forehead again and says, “I need a shower.”

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