How could I tell him what that meant to me? I wasn’t good at revealing myself with words, but I could show him.
And I would.
“Quinn,” I whispered frantically. “I want you inside me. Fuck the condom.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes searched mine in the dark.
“Yes.” My entire body ached for him to fill it. “I want you so badly right now, I can’t describe it—I want you so badly it hurts.”
“I want you too.” He took over, taking his cock in his hand and guiding it between my legs.
I was so wet he slid in easily, but he went slow, his eyes closing. When he was buried inside me, he opened them, and we held still for a moment, just looking at each other.
My heart was thundering in my chest, and I felt his doing the same. His hand slid over my hip, pulling me tighter to his body, and I hitched my leg up even higher, making the angle even better.
“This feels so good,” he whispered. “I don’t even want to move, it will be over too quickly. But I have to…” He began to move his lower body in that slow, sinuous motion I loved, the one that had him rubbing all the right places, inside and out. “You make me so hard.”
“Don’t worry, I’m with you,” I said, matching his rhythm with my hips. “I promise.”
It didn’t take long for the intensity to build, especially knowing we were doing it without a condom—breaking a rule!—on purpose. Before long, Quinn had me on my back, his cock driving hard and deep, my nails digging into his ass, our bodies damp with water and sweat. Higher and higher we climbed, desperate for release, unable to stop, but unwilling to leave the other behind.
“Now,” he said hotly, his breath in my ear. “Come for me. Let me feel you come on my cock before I—”
I lost the rest of what he was saying, my senses abandoned, my universe reduced to the shared pulse between us. I don’t know where my orgasm stopped or his began; they ran together, fed off each other, kept us clutching at one another, trying against all odds to get deeper, get closer, get more.
When his body collapsed on top of mine, I felt grateful for the weight of it, the way it grounded me, stopped me from floating into the sky. I held him to me with my arms and legs, pressed my lips to his neck, breathed him in deep.
“Are you OK?” He lifted his chest off me and looked down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to crush you.”
“You’re not. Come back.” I pulled on his shoulders. “I wasn’t suffocating, I was sniffing you.”
He laughed and lowered himself a little, propping himself on his elbows above my shoulders. “Is this OK?”
“Yes.” I ran my hands up his sides, over his chest, and into his hair. “Just don’t leave yet.”
“OK.”
I looked up at him and realized it wasn’t that I didn’t want him to leave yet; I didn’t want him to leave at all.
I wanted him next to me all night. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms and wake up with him beside me. I wanted to talk more about his mom and my mom and our childhoods. I wanted to whisper about the future and what it might hold. I wanted to laugh about my rules and how he’d somehow convinced me to break every one of them without even appearing to try. I wanted to let him all the way in.
I wanted to love him.
“Quinn,” I whispered, brushing the hair back from his face. “I don’t want you to leave me tonight.”
He hesitated. “Does that mean you want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“The night?”
“Yes.” Please don’t tease me right now. Don’t ask me what it means. Don’t remind me of the rules. Just trust me. Let me give you more, a little at a time.
“OK,” he said, kissing me softly. “I’ll stay.”
I drifted off to sleep spooned in Quinn’s embrace.
“You’re sure you’re OK?” he asked for the tenth time. “I’m not crowding you?”