In one quick movement, I pushed the door closed and picked her up, eliciting a gasp from her as her legs instinctively wrapped around my waist.
“Bedroom,” I said, no hesitation in my command. We were going there, and we were going now.
“Second door on the right,” she murmured.
I held her tightly as I made my way to the hallway, stopping to press her against the wall and kiss the absolute fuck out of her. She tightened the hold of her legs around me, her hips grinding into mine as our mouths devoured each other.
Bedroom. This was our first time, and I wasn’t going to let myself come from dry fucking her against a wall. Reluctantly, I started walking again.
“Promise this won’t change anything with us at work,” she said, her hands in my hair and her teeth grazing my earlobe.
“It won’t.”
“But—”
I squeezed her ass, turning her protest into a moan. When I set her on the bed, I put a knee on the mattress, leaning down to kiss her softly.
“Don’t think so much,” I said against her lips. “For a few hours, just feel.” I put my hand over her heart. “This is what really matters.”
Her eyes widened and she nodded. I stripped my shirt off and lowered my mouth to her neck, kissing and nipping in exploration, searching out all of her sweet spots. Every moan of satisfaction sent a bolt of arousal to my painfully swollen cock.
All I wanted was to touch and taste every inch of her. I slowly peeled away her top, pants, and bra, almost losing it when I flicked my tongue across a hard nipple and watched her shiver in delight.
She was doing the same to me—running her hands over every inch of skin as she uncovered it. When I was down to just my boxers, she slipped her hand inside and wrapped it around my cock, making me groan hard.
Goddamn. It had been a while since I’d last had sex, but I’d gone without before and not felt like a teenager being touched for the first time. Sariah did something to me that no woman ever had before.
“I don’t have condoms,” she whispered.
“I do.”
“Thank god. Get one. I need you to get one now.”
My heart raced with desire as she spoke. As I looked around for a condom in my wallet, I said, “What do you mean you need me to?”
“You know what I mean.”
I slid off my boxers and ripped open the condom package. “But I still want to hear you say it.”
After a beat of silence, she said, “I need…you.” So quiet it was almost indiscernible, she added, “Inside me.”
“Baby, the sound of you saying that is almost too much.” I rolled on the condom and then slid her panties down, pressing a kiss to the neatly trimmed strip of curls between her legs. “I need it, too. I need to show you what you do to me. I need to make you come. Say my name when you do, and I won’t last another second.”
As I pushed the tip of my cock inside her, she inhaled sharply. I sank in slowly, her tight pussy testing my control with every inch. Her long, low moan of satisfaction forced me to grab a handful of the pillow her head was resting on and squeeze it with every ounce of strength I could muster.
We quickly found a rhythm, moving slowly together at first, but when I began to move faster, Sariah’s hips matched mine, her breathing getting shallower and shallower.
“God…I’m close,” she breathed. “Don’t stop.”
I pumped my hips harder and faster, feeling her getting closer, and her legs tightened around my waist as she cried out.
“Nash, oh god!”
“Come hard for me, baby,” I urged. “Grind that pussy on my cock.”
Her hips shot up as she moaned loud and long, my cock begging for its own release. As soon as she started to come down, I drove myself into her a final time, groaning raggedly as I came. She cupped my face as I found my breath again, and I moved my lips over hers in a chaste kiss.
“That was…intense,” she said.
“Yeah.” I pulled out of her and lay on my back, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close.
She curled against my side, laughing softly.
“I can’t believe that just happened.”
“Why not?” I ran my thumb in slow circles over her arm.
“I think it’s just crazy that I just slept with the guy I answer fan mail for. The guy who gets panties and poems sent to him.”
“None of that means anything to me. I mean, I appreciate it, but it doesn’t change my opinion of myself.”
“Because it’s already as high as one’s opinion can get,” she cracked.
“Hey, I’m not a bad catch.” I kissed her temple. “And you could write a poem for me if you wanted to.”