Lost In Us (Lost 1)

He is huge. Really huge.

"Fuck," he says in a husky voice, lowering his fingers to my thighs.

To my intense frustration, he breaks off a fraction of a second later, and bends over to one side, searching for something in the pocket of his trousers.

A condom. I didn’t stop taking birth control pills after breaking up with Michael, but say nothing. Given that I barely know him, using a condom is a good idea.

He places it between my breasts and commands, "Put it on."

I don't wait to be told again and rip off the cover with trembling hands. I look him in the eyes as I roll the thin condom over his erection, watching as his perfect face contorts in spasms of pleasure and frustration. It gives me immense pleasure to know I'm causing it. I arch my back, seeking to cut our prelude short.

"Not so fast," he teases and starts kissing my ear, descending painfully slowly on my neck and then my breasts. His tongue plays around one of my nipples while his fingers touch my sex.

Gently.

Teasing.

Torturing.

"James, please," I beg when the tension in my body becomes almost painful.

The gentle touch disappears as he presses his palm over my clit and moves in circles over and over again, sending hot and cold spasms through my body.

I cannot control my moans and pleas or the wildness as I dig my nails into his back.

"I want you to come," he whispers in my ear.

And I do.

Hard.

He covers my mouth with a kiss as my body succumbs to a thousand spasms of gratification and bliss in a way it never had before. I barely recover my breath when he thrusts inside me, filling me completely.

"Fuck, Serena," he moans and pulls my head into another kiss. Intense. Delicious. Rough.

Like his thrusts. I pick up his rhythm and move my hips against his faster and faster, in a wild dance that has me sweating and moaning with pleasure and torture at the same time. But no matter how fast we move, it isn't fast enough. It isn't hard enough. I want faster. I want more. I want everything.

The spasms start again when I feel him growing, his furious breath intensifying by the second.

"Fuck," he groans in my ear as the blissful explosion overtakes me again. Between my uncontrollable shaking and moaning, I hear him come too.

It takes a while before my breathing returns to its normal pattern and I can form clear thoughts again. James is still over me, his head buried in my neck. His breathing too, is calm and regular now. He's not inside me anymore and I feel a twinge of regret me because I can't remember when he pulled out. He slides over to one side and sits up on an elbow. His face contorts in a grimace and I immediately see why. There are four deep scratches on his left shoulder.

"You're a little beast," he teases, looking amused.

"You seemed to like it," I say, avoiding his gaze. Why am I always so defensive? Probably because he makes me say and do things I never did before… like scratching and biting.

"I never said I didn't," he says softly. "Did you like it? You're the important one."

I nod and turn to look him in the eyes. They are so bright now. I wonder if I'll ever have the opportunity to see them turn dark again, or if this was it.

His next move makes me think it’s the latter.

He gets up and pulls on his trousers in a heartbeat then disappears from my view only to return with my red dress a few seconds later.

"We're returning to the party?"

He takes my hand and helps me get up, then wraps me in his arms, holding me against his still damp body.