Offensive Behavior

She was beyond ready too. He could do anything he wanted. He touched her clit again, dragged his finger through her wetness and probed inside, making her hips jerk.

“Fuck.” He scrambled back off the bed and she half sat in surprise, laughing when he pulled her ankles so she slid, dragging the bed covering with her to the edge of the bed. She dug that he wasn’t scared to be physical with her, that he understood she was strong. She laughed again when he lifted her foot and put it over his shoulder.

This is the point other partners wimped out, pretended polite interest or wanted her to do something awkwardly gymnastic and uncomfortable while they ate her out. Reid went to his knees, smoothed his hands up her thighs and put his lips to her hip flexor then tongued her length like it was the reason he was born.

She dropped back to the bed, her strangled moan acting like applause, urging him on. She got a hand to his hair and he stopped. “No, no don’t stop, that’s good, that’s soo damn good.” He found her clit, closed his lips around it and she yipped and wrenched out of his grasp.

Not an orgasm but it was there, making her tremble, waiting to be coaxed out, but he was all out of patience to explore. He crawled over her, shoved her back up the bed and settled between her thighs, the head of his cock eased down her slipperiness and breached her. They both groaned.

“Zarley. Jesus, that’s, that’s . . .” He lost his words as she tipped her hips into him.

His eyes were down on their joining and she watched his face signal his bliss as he eased inside her till she was full of him, needed to adjust to him. He was adjusting too, his body shaking with the effort of it, his belly hollowing out, the muscles in his arms rigid.

“Move, it’s okay to move. It’s going to be so good.”

He pulled back almost all the way and pushed back in again, his eyes fighting to stay open. She brought her knees up and his chin tipped back and he swore and pushed inside more forcefully.

“Zarley.”

The crackle in his voice, the lack of focus in his eyes, the tension and astonishment and playfulness—she needed him now. “Reid, fuck me hard.”

He lost it. Thrusting and reversing and thrusting again till he shook with the pleasure of the rhythm he’d set and she trembled, clutching at the bed covering, willing herself to come with him, but he stopped, went rigid and shouted her name, shaking through his orgasm then sinking to his elbows and dropping his head to her shoulder.

She sighed and wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing his cheek, smoothing his hair back.

“I have to pull out,” he murmured, almost slurring.

She gripped him, reveling in the way he still trembled and not quite ready to feel that loss. “In a minute.” A minute of luxurious kisses, gone caramel sweet and lazy, and then he shifted to the side, flopped on his back.

He fumbled for her hand and brought it to his chest. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” For a first effort it was mighty. And they were far from finished with each other, but he was exhausted and she had no desire to leave his bed.

“Did you?” he asked.

“No, but close, it was good. I’d had sex a dozen times before I had an orgasm, before I even got close, and with a new partner it can take time.”

“Do we have time for me to learn how to get you there? Will you stay?”

She wanted round two and if it was going to happen, they both needed to get under the covers and sleep. “Hmm, I’d like that.” Mostly what she liked was that he asked with enough hesitation to think she might leave. The not being taken for granted thing was a huge buzz.

He roused himself, tugged at the bed covers. “Can I get you anything?”

There was a box of tissues on the floor near the bed. There were rainclouds outside, there were hours still to sleep, to have his body again. “I have everything I want.” She moved to let him pull the covers over them. His sheets were crispy and cool, they smelled freshly laundered. She even approved of his firm pillow.

They resettled in the bed side by side, not touching, and she was on the edge of consciousness when he said. “Can I hold you?”

She rolled over to look at him. He didn’t have a script for this afterward stuff. And hers was mostly about getting dressed and going home or counting the seconds until the man did. Virgin territory for both of them. Reid lay looking at the ceiling. “You don’t have to. We should sleep.”

“I want to.” He turned his head. “That was. I don’t know how to. I feel like I flew the space shuttle, explored the cosmos. Like I invented the space shuttle and built it with my own hands. Like I don’t know what year it is and I don’t care. Like I’m human.”

She smiled at him. “Human?”

“A real person at last. Not alien, something apart.”

Oh, her heart flipped. He was uncertain, his emotions so raw he was the most human of men to her right now. She moved closer and wrapped her arm over his chest to snuggle him.

He rested his cheek on her hair. She pressed her body to his side. “Who knew?”