Page 82 of First Impressions of You

Winter notices my every move. He changes the rhythm as my body responds to him, never leaving me hanging. He quickly learns what I like, reading me like I’m an open book. Like I’m a language only he is fluent in.

His tongue keeps working me, teasing my entrance, lapping my slickness up to my clit and savoring it like it’s his last meal.

“Almost,” I cry, not able to form complete sentences. “Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. Winter’s mouth keeps devouring me at the precise rhythm I need for him to wring my orgasm out of me. My control over my body snaps, as I unravel in a flood of sensations, rocking my hip under him, riding every aftershock wave.

“Need you,” I whimper. “Now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Reaching for his back pocket, he takes a condom from his wallet and quickly gets rid of his pants. I scoot up on the bed, my eyes focused on the man stripping in front of me.

When his pants drop to the floor, his white boxer briefs do nothing to hide his erection. My mouth waters before I even see him naked.

“You look like you’re about to eat me, Sunshine.”

“Not my fault you look like this,” I say, eying him up and down.

“How do you think I feel having you naked on my bed, looking like this?” He mirrors my gesture.

“Why don’t you come over here and show me?” I cock an eyebrow at him. Winter basically jumps on top of me. I pull at his boxer briefs. “These have to go.”

The moment he gets rid of the last barrier between us, my senses overflow. Feeling his skin on mine, the hard planes of his body connecting with the soft curves of mine, it’s too much. It’s not enough. I need to feel him closer. I need him in me.

Reaching between our bodies, I wrap my hand around his hard cock and stroke it once. He groans at the touch, the sound spurring me on. My thumb rubs the tip, precum starting to leak.

“You need to stop,” he warns me, but I don’t. I can’t. Feeling how much I affect him is turning me on. Knowing how I’m about to unravel him is making me drunk on power. He holds my wrist still. “Sunshine.” His voice is but a hiss.

“Condom,” I ask. He hands me the foil packet, and I rip it open. As I start to unroll it on him, I feel his chest expand on top of mine.

Looking up, he grunts, “Fuck.”

“Look at me,” I urge him, holding his face so he can’t avert his eyes. “Don’t look away. Look at me.”

“I want this to be good for you,” he confesses in a whisper. His eyes searching my face. “But I don’t know I can last long.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t need to. I lower his face to mine, claiming his mouth in a kiss that tells him everything I can’t verbalize. With my other hand, I guide him to my entrance, and the moment Winter fills me, a moan rises from deep in my chest, and he swallows it in a passionate kiss.

Our hips rock together in perfect tempo. He thrusts in tiny movements at first, finding the way I like it best. His hand glides over my ass then slides down to my leg. He helps me wrap it around his body, changing the angle and—

“Fuck,” we both say as the new angle lets him hit me deeper.

“I knew you’d feel good, Sunshine,” he pants. “But I had no idea it’d be this incredible.” He lowers his hand between us and starts working my clit as his hips continues to thrust in a crescendo.

I feel the orgasm building inside, tension coiling in my body, like a rubber band pulled taut to the point of snapping. As Winter uses his finger on my clit, changing techniques to match the rhythm of his thrusts, I grab on his shoulder, my nails raking the skin on his back.

“Come for me, Sunshine,” he asks, taking my mouth with his. “I’m—”

“Don’t stop,” I cut him off. He responds immediately. Sucking on the hollow of my throat, nipping at my shoulder, finding my lips again. He shows me how much he wants me in every way he can.

“What do you need?” he demands.

“I need…” I need him not to stop. I need him not to let me go. I need him not to give up. I need him to want me the way I want him.

“Whatever you need, Sunshine. I’ll give it to you.” He sounds on the edge himself, like he’s holding with every ounce of strength he has. “Tell me what you need, and it’s yours. I’m yours. I’ve been yours the moment I saw you. You’re it for me. Tell me what you need, and I’ll fucking give it to you.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, and for some reason, despite his cock being buried inside of me, it’s that kiss on the corner of my mouth that seems like the most intimate act we’ve ever shared.

“You can ask me anything. The only thing you can’t ask of me,” he continues, his fingers stroking my hair, “is to let you go because I don’t think I can do that.”

The little control I still have snaps at his words, rocking me into orbit as I cry out his name.

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