My mouth waters.
My vagina throbs.
My heart pounds.
Our mouths latch on, wet, desperate kisses—the kind you see in the movies—his hand on the back of my head pulling me in closer so he can kiss the hell out of me.
I move over him, dry-fucking the tip of his cock as it flirts with the entrance to my core, getting me hotter and hotter and hotter.
“God, I want you so bad.” He groans into my mouth, hand still gripping the back of my scalp; I can feel how bad he wants me—his entire body is tense from the tips of his fingers to the tip of his dick to the position of his legs.
His knees are bent, legs slightly spread—he’s doing his best to maintain his sanity the same way I’m trying to maintain mine.
The intention tonight was not to have sex with him.
The intention tonight was not to come home with him.
He didn’t even want to go out.
Yet he did.
For me.
“I want you, too.”
What to do, what to do…
Just because we’re horny and naked does not mean we should be having sex right now—I know it and Roman knows it.
My head dips again, mouth falling open—I swear my eyes roll to the back of my skull when the head of his cock accidentally goes inside me the slightest bit, giving new meaning to ‘just the tip.’
He hisses.
I begin to sweat, beads of perspiration forming on my forehead in the unsexiest of ways. But it’s hot in here—or is it just us?
“Should we just do it?” I muse out loud, not expecting him to say, “Yes.”
We kiss again, the only thing we can do now that we’ve had a good and thorough discussion on the matter.
I move to readjust, ready to have him bury himself.
“Wait—if we’re going to do this, I should put something on.”
So. Responsible.
I’m on the pill—obviously I am—but don’t tell him that, pleased that he’s looking out for us both.
Nodding, I watch as he leans over to pull open the bedside table drawer with me still sitting on top of him, rooting around. Produces a box of condoms as my fingers drag up and down his back.
What is he even doing with condoms? I didn’t think he was the casual sex kind of guy.
“These aren’t mine,” he explains. “They were left here by the person who lived in this room before.”
Um—that person was Eliza, but okay.
Naughty, naughty, smart, safe girl.
I mentally salute her preparedness and thank her for the sex I’m about to have.
Giving Roman room to tear open the condom wrapper and roll it onto his hard-on, I slide over but still never take my eyes off the process, mouth watering in anticipation of what’s to come. Literally.
I never found dicks appealing until this very second—never.
But Roman’s penis is incredible to look at, at least in my eyes: not too big and not too small, not too thick and not too thin. Perfect if there is such a thing, and I do not say this lightly because let’s face it, we all know dicks aren’t cute.
Like, at all.
He slides the condom on, fumbling through it a bit, hand shaking.
He’s having a rough go of it, and I help, on the off chance his clumsy approach kills his boner—I’m way too worked up not to bang him at this point, and him going down on me again will not do.
I want—nay, NEED his dick inside me.
Together we slide it on, nice and snug.
I kiss him again to get the ball rolling once more, get us more turned on, get him worked up. Flop down onto the mattress, onto my back, pulling him along for the ride so he’s on top, missionary for the win.
I’m wet, so it’s easy for him to slide in, one slow inch at a time, holding his breath the entire way until he’s to the hilt.
He feels big, just right.
I squirm beneath him, wanting him to pump—hard.
Instead, he does a steady rocking back and forth that does everything to drive me out of my mind. More, more, more!
I try to spread my legs but pause when he moans, “Oh fuck. Shit.”
Shit?
Is that a good thing? I’ve never heard a guy say that while he was inside me before.
“Oh my god, Lilly.” His forehead presses against mine and he stops mid-thrust.
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
“I need a second.”
A second? A second for what?
Is he…
Going to come?
Already?!
We’ve only been having sex for like, thirty seconds.
Dammit—I knew I should have sucked his dick when we started fooling around; he would last longer.
I lie still as he hovers above me, and a bead of sweat drops and hits the center of my chest.
It’s okay, I want to whisper to him. I get it, you hardly have sex.
Stroking his back with my nails, I wait him out. He’s still terrified to move, afraid he’ll blow his load.