Once I have it on the floor and am wearing nothing but my black boxer briefs, she slaps her hands across my abs and makes this growling sound. “How is this fair?”
“Slapping?”
“Abs, the V, the everything.”
“Guess the other half of team Silver Snake’s just lucky?”
She slaps me again; not gonna lie, I kind of like it. “Whyyyyyy though, why is that your thing? Can’t blow jobs be your thing.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you saying they aren’t?”
Oh shit. “No, no, that’s not what I meant; I just meant hey, instead of slapping utilize that aggression into something that will turn us both on rather than make me want to tense up.”
“Do blow jobs not tense you up?”
“Is this a trick question?”
She leans up and kisses me. “Dunno; what do you think?”
“I think,” I kiss her again, deepening it. The feel of her hot mouth on mine is so addicting I have trouble finding words. “I think,” I repeat, “I would be okay just kissing you for the rest of my life.”
She jerks my head down, and our teeth nearly hit as her tongue shoves into my mouth, and then I’m gone, so gone; I just want to be here with her in this moment, throw all the past away.
I want to be with my partner.
“Get inside me,” she demands breathlessly.
“That’s a really sexy thing to say when I’m sitting here trying to decide how to do this without making things awkward.”
She rolls down my briefs and grips me. “It’s only awkward if you leave me hanging.”
Her grip is rough, almost too rough. Fuck, I love it. I roll my hips into her palm and then slap her hand away and slam into her. Roughly yes, without any preparation, also yes, but she’s fucking wet it doesn’t matter, and I’m so hard I’m petrified I’m going to last like one point two seconds.
She’s pinned beneath me, and I love it. I love that she’s wrapping her legs around me, that she’s sucking me in, making me hers.
“Keep doing that,” I rasp. “Please, oh God, please, that’s— You’re so tight, you feel so hot.” Emotions whirl with the physical act of what’s happening like I know that this is it, but I’m terrified to say something. I keep moving, she keeps pulling, and my thrusts get more intense.
“Jack, please, please!” she begs, and I know what it’s for, but I want this to last longer.
Then again, it’s not about me.
I angle a bit differently and move my hand between her thighs, working her manually as I thrust. She comes apart all over my fingers with me inside. And it sparks my own release. We’re a mess together. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so spent.
I think she’s about to say something super sweet when she looks up at me, smiles, and says, “Get rid of that damn stapler.” Then she slaps me in the stomach.
Yay, another slap.
Okay, now I kind of like it.
“Never,” I growl against her neck. “Now, let’s go shower, clean up, burn the shirts, and do this again.”
“So, you really found them in your dorm senior year just going at it sixty-nine style?” I ask once in bed. I’m laughing because what the hell is wrong with this guy? I mean, seriously.
Ivy moves closer to me, throwing a leg over my body. “Yeah, and he was the one that was all like, missionary all the time, making me feel dumb for wanting more. Meanwhile, he’s eating… yeah well, let’s just not go there; we’re no longer friends, and I think they got married.”
“Good,” I snap. “Because that means you’re here. And mine.”
I stare down at her gorgeously naked body and wonder what sort of blunt head trauma that idiot went through to not want to explore every corner of her body. Then I realize some guys, yes at times, ahem, me included, are just idiots, giant dicks, and have no clue how to treat a woman.
Smirking, I lean down and bite at her collarbone lightly and whisper against her skin. “Get on your knees.”
“I’m not giving you another blow job.” She huffs and crosses her arms as if she’s offended when I know she loved every minute of it just like I did. I grab her by the hips, then flip her onto her stomach and say it again, this time with a light tap on her ass. “I wasn’t talking about a blow job, but your offer is much appreciated; now, let me fuck you into this mattress like we’re breaking up.”
She peers over her shoulder, her hair causing a curtain across half her face. “When did we start dating?”
“When we won Legends of the Hidden Temple and Olmec didn’t murder us, and you offered sex. It was the most romantic and terrifying moment of my life. One day we’ll tell our grandchildren how we made it past the pit of doom and lived fuckily ever after while I did naughty things to grandma with a Nickelodeon medallion sliding between our bodies… ‘there, oh right there, Jack, give it to me grandpa style—’”