Two fingers stretch me, coaxing me higher. Crude wet noises and the scent of my sex fill the air. He barely needs to rub over the back of my clit with those clever fingers and my body is already shaking. I come with very little coaxing. That spectacular high taking me over. It’s kind of embarrassing how easy I am for him. How ready to give it up I am each and every time. It’s also kind of awesome.
“Condom,” I say, voice weak and breathy.
“On it.”
After carefully untangling himself from my legs, he sprints for his bedroom. I’ve never seen a man move so fast. The hard-on tenting the front of his gray sweatpants leave very little to the imagination. It’s spectacular.
In no time at all, he’s stripping off his tee and pushing down his pants, rolling the prophylactic over his swollen dick. His skin and his tattoos, his smile and his taste, everything about him works for me. At the sight of him, my heart feels too big for my chest. Like something’s either gone very wrong or very right in there. It’s just some mad infatuation. An all-consuming crush. And that’s okay, it’s fine, I just can’t think about it anymore right now.
We’re both clutching at each other, mashing our mouths together for the messiest kiss in history. And it’s all so wonderful and frenzied and necessary. He slams his cock into me and oh hell yes. So good. We both moan in delight. Since I’m doing my best to cling to him like a howler monkey, he picks me up and stumble-walks us both to the nearest wall. This way we can stay smooshed together for the duration.
“Okay?” he asks, panting.
“Yes.”
And no more is said. With one strong hand under my ass and the other arm wrapped around my back, he nails me into the wall. I hide my face in his neck and do my best to hold on. It’s so urgent and all consuming. The need to get as physically close to him as I possibly can. I want to slide beneath his skin and wander through his mind. Know him better than I know myself. And none of these thoughts are the least bit sensible or cautious, but I can’t help it. I’ll worry about that later. The hard length of his dick surges into me, filling me to capacity again and again. My world is the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the feel of him surrounding me and inside of me. The way he grinds the base of his dick against my clit and brushes over something fucking fabulous inside of me. Everything is tensing once again. My tummy tightening and thighs clasped tight around his hips. It surges up my spine, lighting up my whole world as I come again. Leif grunts and shoves his cock in deep, hips surging against me as he comes too.
Our limbs are locked around each other. Sweat and other bodily fluids on our skin. Ever so slowly and carefully, he takes us to the floor. And there we lie, sprawled out over each other.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles against the side of my head.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath. “Adrenaline from the fight.”
“Maybe. Or it might be just you. I can’t get enough.”
I brush some stray strands of hair back from his gorgeous face. Except he’s beautiful inside and out, this man. And there’s that weird and unfortunate heat and expansion inside my rib cage again. Honest to God, I could stare at him forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough.
“Anna, baby . . .” he says in a low voice. His gaze is so warm and intense and oh my God. Everything. He’s looking at me like I’m everything and it’s too much.
“Hmm?”
“I, uh—”
“What do you feel like for dinner?” It’s out of my mouth before I’ve even given it any thought. Safe neutral territory. Not that he was about to make things weird or anything. I’m probably being oversensitive or not sensitive enough or something. Or just somewhat deranged, who am I kidding?
“Dinner?” he asks, raising a brow.
“You’re right. I need to get ice for your eye first.” I crawl off of him and stand, smoothing down my dress and hunting for my panties. “You deal with the condom and I’ll go in search of medical aid.”
“Okay,” he says. And if anything, he sounds sort of bemused. Whatever.
Nothing is wrong. I just came twice and it’s a beautiful summer night. I empty a tray of ice into a kitchen towel and hey, presto. A couple of ibuprofen would be a good idea too. Meanwhile, Leif is back up on his feet and fetching two beers out of the fridge while being at least half dressed, which returns a little of my sanity. Though every time I look at him or hear his voice or enter his general vicinity I go a bit crazy. He shouldn’t have such an effect on me. It’s unnerving. Emotions are so wrong. They’re dangerous and they can hurt.