Making Up (Shacking Up 4)

I cup her cheek in my palm and kiss her. “I promise it’ll be memorable in the best way possible.”

“I’m counting on you, so don’t let me down.” She plucks the latex ring from the foil and winks. “But no pressure.”

I laugh, but suck in a breath when she pinches the tip between her fingers and places it at the head. “Like this?” She looks up at me, eyes wide and searching.

I shouldn’t be this excited. But I’m still totally happy to burn in hell for this. “Exactly like that.”

She rolls it down the shaft then wipes her hand on the comforter, which makes me smile. Cosy curves her palm around the back of my neck and tugs gently, bringing our mouths together. “Come claim my V-card.”

I half laugh and half groan as she lies back and pulls me with her. I brace myself on my forearms. “Maybe I should use my fingers again?”

“Stop stalling, Griffin.” She drags a foot up the outside of my thigh and reaches between us with her free hand to grasp my erection.

I cover her hand with mine, moving it out of the way, and drop my hips, settling between her thighs. “Stop rushing, Cosy.”

I kiss her, hyperaware of the way she feels under me, how languid she is, the way she arches and shifts, seeking more contact. I don’t want to rush through this. The last first I took was when I lost my own. I had no idea what I was doing then, no clue how to make it a good experience for my partner, but time and experience changes a lot, especially perspective.

I keep rolling my hips, and Cosy’s legs tighten around my waist. Little moans hum across my lips, and her nails dig into my shoulders. I break the kiss and push up on my forearm so I can see her.

I skim the edge of her jaw. Her lips are full and pink from all the nibbling, and her eyes are hazy with lust. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you, but in a super masculine while still boyishly handsome kind of way. I think you’re still stalling, FYI.”

I reach between us and use the head of my erection to circle her clit. “I need you to tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re sure you want this?”

“Definitely.” She nods and drags her tongue along her bottom lip.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word.” I circle one more time and ease lower, glancing down between us.

“Griffin.”

My head snaps back up. “Yeah.”

“This isn’t a calculus test. It’s sex. Stop being so serious and have some fun with me.” She runs her fingers through my hair, a soft smile on her lips.

I mirror it and stroke her cheek with my thumb while I line myself up with her entrance. “I’m about to go where no man has gone before.”

“Except for Bartholomew.”

“Bart better hope he never meets me or I’m giving him a one-way ticket to a dumpster.”

Cosy laughs and then sucks in a breath as I push inside.

I pause. “More or wait?”

“More. I want it all,” she whispers.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you everything.”Chapter Seven: Holy AwesomeCosy

The banter ceases as Griffin sinks into me, and that slightly stretched sensation becomes really stretched and extremely full. His eyes stay on mine, cataloguing my reaction like I’m doing to him.

Griffin is a lot. I know this based on the porn I’m exposed to, the fake peens I sell to people, and common sense. A lot, but not too much.

His expression is fiercely intense, lips slightly parted, breath leaving him on a low groan. It’s actually pretty fascinating. Emotions flicker across his face, and I track each one as they pass: lust, guilt, need, worry, desire, fear, hesitation, and then finally an oddly frenetic peacefulness as his hips meet mine.

At twenty-two, I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends, most of them short-term apart from the one in high school, so my sexual experiences include everything apart from the actual act. And anal, because no thanks to that.

I assumed sex would be a lot like using a vibrator but attached to a real human. I assumed incorrectly.

This is way, way different. I get the fascination now. Why people crave it. How people could become addicted to it. I’m not painfully full, but I’m full nonetheless. Of Griffin. He’s everywhere, body flush with mine, although he’s holding himself above me. His warm breath washes over my face with each exhalation.

I’m boxed in by his arms, dominated and protected at the same time. He strokes along my jaw and curves his palm around the back of my neck. It’s actually rather impressive considering how bulky he is and how easy it seems for him to bear all of his weight on one forearm. This level of intimacy is almost unnerving. So much so that I want to look away, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes from him. He’s just so damn beautiful.