But probably regret.
But Joey didn’t regret it yet. So she threw her leg over Chris’s to open up more for him, to invite him deeper and to take what he had to give her for as long as they had together.
Inside her she felt the sweetest ache and his fingers rubbed that ache. The miracle of his touch was that the ache grew stronger the more he touched it, and yet only his touch could relieve the aching. He caused the ache. He cured the ache. He made her ache all over again.
Joey clung to his shoulder as he touched her, and it wasn’t long before she was there, right there, at the edge again so ready to come she could scream. But she didn’t want to scream because she’d told Chris the truth—she wanted only him to hear her come. Her pleasure was for his ears only. She breathed heavy and hard as muscles inside her knitted themselves into taut knots that clenched and released, clenched and released, and clenched and held and clenched, and tightened...and then released all at once, all around his fingers, all around his hand.
With a soft moan Joey’s head fell back onto the bed and her entire body went soft and slack. She heard Chris chuckling, a sexier sound she’d rarely heard.
“Good girl. You almost broke my hand.”
“I’d apologize but...I don’t want to.”
“No apologies necessary.”
“Your turn,” she said.
“It is, isn’t it.”
Chris slid off the bed and stood up. Somehow Joey found the strength to lift her head and watched him undress. He kept his promise and stripped completely naked for her. She liked the way he took his clothes off—so perfunctory, so careless. He wasn’t putting on a show for her. Just getting the job done. When he shed his boxer briefs she saw his erection, already hard and thick and eager for her. And she wanted it inside as much as it wanted to be in her. He rolled on a condom and settled in on top of her. There it was, the heat of his naked skin on hers again, that delicious heat. She craved it and her skin tingled with happiness to feel his weight and his length and his hardness against her from shoulder to thigh.
“You still want to be on top?” he asked.
She nodded. “If you’ll let me.”
“For a few minutes. But only because you said please and only because I’m such a gentleman.”
He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them so that he lay on his back and she on top of him. Now that she’d come she was both wet and open. She grasped his cock in her hand, guided him inside her and slid back to take every inch. Chris inhaled as she enveloped him with her body and his eyes closed and she was pretty sure she’d never forget this moment as long as she lived. Carefully she moved on him, finding a pace and a rhythm that suited them both. She placed her hands flat on his chest to hold herself over him and moved her hips in a slow undulation that took him deep within her and then out nearly to the tip before taking him back in again. Chris ran his calloused fingertips up her bare back and she sighed and giggled at the tickling sensation. Her nipples hardened from the gentle pressure of his hands on her.
“I only get eleven days with you.” She sighed. “I want you in every way. On top. On bottom. From behind. Against the wall.”
“Flat on your back on the bench seat in my pickup with your skirt yanked up around your waist and your ass in my hands?”
“You’ve given this some thought.”
“That might be a leftover fantasy from high school.”
“Truck sex?”
“Truck sex.”
“You bring the truck. I’ll bring the skirt.”
“Another deal,” he said.
He took her hips in his hands to guide her movements. Even underneath her he still had to be in charge. She didn’t mind letting someone else run the show if that person knew exactly what he was doing. Which Chris did. God, did he know what he was doing. Under her he rocked his hips back and forth while he guided her up and down the length of him. Joey groaned and dropped her head to his chest, kissing it, biting it, biting his collarbone and shoulders, as he rocked more and more beneath her. The temperature in the room skyrocketed. Chris kissed her neck—hard. And sucked her nipples—hard. And when it seemed he couldn’t stand being trapped on the bottom anymore, he rolled them onto her back and thrust into her—hard.
Joey didn’t complain about the sudden change of position. She had nothing to complain about, and even if she wanted to complain, she was too busy panting to get any words out. Chris rode her with long deep thrusts and his strong hands on her ribs right under her breasts, holding her down gently but firmly, putting her in her place, which was under him and around him and with him, and that was a damn good place to be in that moment.
She loved the way he fucked her so that she felt sexy and dirty and wicked and yet somehow safe and comfortable, too. She couldn’t stop touching him now, running her hands up his taut arms to his broad shoulders and down his chest and his stomach to his hips and iron thighs that he used to control his powerful thrusts. She felt him lifting her off the bed and knew he wasn’t and yet with her eyes closed it seemed she floated with him a few inches up and going higher, and higher, still higher...and with a crash she came down again as she shook with an orgasm she hadn’t expected so quickly after her first one. As she came back to awareness, she felt warm wetness on her stomach and breasts. She opened her eyes to see Chris holding his cock in his hands, coming on her body in a few hard spurts. She met his eyes—they were open—and she didn’t look away. It was terrifyingly intimate, locking eyes as he came. He looked at her with real desire, real tenderness. Honest desire. Honest tenderness. There was no deceit in Chris Steffensen. None. What she saw was what she got and what she saw was pretty damn good.
Chris exhaled heavily and she watched the last of his tension drain from his body. He bent and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“I liked that,” he whispered.
“Me, too,” she whispered back. They had no reason to whisper other than lovers whispered in bed and they were officially lovers now.
“Take a shower with me.”