I didn’t really have a reason for coming up to my flat, I’d just wanted to exit the conversation, but since I was up here, I used my own bathroom, changed underwear, and grabbed another bottle of red from the rack before heading back downstairs. Quinn was on the couch again, checking his phone. Was it possible he looked even more delicious since he’d said the thing about more orgasms? When would those begin? Before or after the homemade pizza?
Sex and pizza. God, my life is amazing right now.
“How’s your harem today?” I went into the kitchen, peeked at the rising dough, and left the wine on the counter. “They like your early morning bat
hroom selfie with the bedhead hair?”
“They did, indeed. More than five thousand of them.”
“Don’t you ever feel weird about posting so many pictures of yourself?” I came back into the living room, noticing that he’d closed the curtains. I sat a little closer to him.
“Sometimes,” he said, setting his phone on the table. “But I also get a lot of messages from people who say that my pictures inspire them to eat healthier or exercise more or set a fitness goal for themselves. Those are good things.”
“Ah, so you’re doing it for them,” I teased, poking him in the side, “not for your own ego. It’s purely altruistic, all the shirtless muscle pics.”
He tackled me, throwing me onto my back and covering my body with his. “You’re awful, you know that? Quit making fun of me, or I will excessively cuddle you to death.”
“No, no, anything but that,” I said, giggling. But I slipped my hands inside his shirt, rubbed them up and down the smooth, warm skin on his back.
He looked down at me with a glint in his eye. “Or maybe I’ll tease you about the red bikini night, Miss I Don’t Talk About Feelings.”
I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh no?”
Something clicked, and I saw it as an opportunity to derail. “Hey…you remember what I was wearing?”
“Of course I do.” He kissed me, but it wasn’t like the first time, in his room. This one was softer and sweeter, and allowed me to better appreciate the firm fullness of his lips, the taste of the wine on his tongue. He picked up his head. “Some things are unforgettable.”
Feeling validated, I smiled bigger than I meant to. My heart beat faster than it was supposed to. My insides performed acrobatic feats they hadn’t attempted in years.
A warning bell sounded in my head.
I ignored all of that and focused on the external things—the hardness of his cock between my legs, the friction making my clit tingle and ache, the solid weight of his body, his mouth sealed over mine, his tongue sliding inside—the safe things.
His kiss had me riled up fast, and I tugged at his jeans. “Wait,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
A minute later, he came back with his pants undone, condom already on, and peeled my pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. Fuck yes. I love a man who doesn’t belabor the point. When there’s a matter to be settled, let’s settle it.
He sat back on the couch and I quickly straddled him, grabbing his shirt at the hem and lifting it over his head. Then I reached down and took his cock in my hand, rubbing the tip on my clit.
“You really are all business, aren’t you?” His hands moved up my thighs and over my ass.
“Is that a complaint?”
“Nope.” He groaned, his eyes closing, head tipping back, as I lowered myself onto his dick, inch by inch, until I was sitting on his legs. “Just an observation.”
“Sometimes I mix business with pleasure,” I said, taking a moment to appreciate how full with him I was, how deep he reached, how hard and thick he felt inside me. I loved being on top—loved the control and power it gave me, loved watching a guy fall apart beneath me. And Quinn was so beautiful, this view was like none I’d ever seen before. Fucking stellar. His bone structure was ridiculous.
Also his boner structure.
I circled my hips, smiling lazily at the way he dug his fingers into my skin. I took his head in my hands, curling my fingers into his hair, pinning those blue eyes with a look that said I’m. Fucking. You. Get it?
His lips looked so delicious I couldn’t resist rubbing mine against them, less a kiss and more a tease. Then I took his bottom lip between my teeth, grinding against him a little faster. Fuck, I could get drunk on this feeling. It was a bigger kick and a higher high than from any other drug—I could feel my body making the climb, feel his taking me there.
His hands flexed on my ass, and he held me tightly against him as he started to thrust up inside me. I gasped, dropping my head back, each powerful jab taking me closer and closer to release. My lower body hummed and tightened, and I tilted my hips back to get the perfect angle—the base of his cock rubbing my clit and the tip of it hitting the magic spot. He moaned and cursed under ragged breaths, matching my rhythm perfectly.
At the precipice, I looked down at him, and the sight of his gorgeous face seized by the agony of pleasure sent me over the edge. I clawed his shoulders, crying out as I came long and hard.