Hang on so tight as I feel like I’m on a roller coaster.
Cruce tears his mouth free, eyes fierce. “You okay?”
I frown. “Um… yes. Ready to be better.”
“No,” he growls with a hard shake of his head. “Are you okay… to do this?”
I blink, confused at first, but then it hits me. He’s worried because I was almost raped. Maybe even worried I’m still too fragile from my torture.
Bringing a hand to his face, I rub my thumb through the bristles of his short beard and give him a reassuring smile. “I am more than okay for this. In fact, I really, really need this, Cruce.”
Relief fills his eyes, but it’s immediately replaced by heat. He touches his lips to mine again, this time so reverently my eyes get a little wet.
I slip my tongue into his mouth and touch it against his, the vibe of the kiss turning a bit dirty. It spurs Cruce on, telling him it’s okay to go fast and a little rough if he wants. His hand moves into my panties, fingers gently probing. My hips surge up, legs spread wantonly.
I should be embarrassed about how wet I am when he slips inside me, but I’m not. It’s a testament to how much my body belongs to him. That just his kiss does that to me.
Wiggling, I manage to reach down between us… get my hand back around him. He groans into my mouth, and we use our hands on each other until it’s unbearable.
Until nothing else will satisfy me except having him inside me.
I release him, pull my mouth away from his, and mutter, “Get your damn underwear off.”
My hands are now pushing at the elastic band, and I give a kitteny growl in frustration.
Laughing, Cruce rolls slightly off me. He takes over, pushing his underwear roughly down his legs. I use the moment to take care of my own panties, shucking them down my legs and wriggling out of the stupid, obstructionist things. Then, I whip my t-shirt over my head and toss it to the floor.
I go still as I feel the quiet weight of Cruce’s stare.
His eyes roam all over me, my nipples puckering in response to how intense he appears right now.
Like he could devour me.
Cruce seems to bristle with some type of energy as he rolls my way again, settles in between my legs, and puts his hands to the backs of my thighs. I shift, let him spread me wide, and I take him in my grip.
I guide him to me, feel him press and breach me slowly.
A long slide into my body until our pelvises are pressed tightly to one another.
I can’t help but groan at the feeling of full completeness. Cruce intently watches where we’re joined as his hips pull back, then he slides his long length out almost to the tip before pressing deeply back in.
“Fuck,” he grunts, an awed expression washing over his face as he peers down at me. “Feels so fucking good, Barrett.”
“So good,” I murmur, reaching to palm his face… touch his beard.
One of his hands comes up, takes me by the forearm, and pulls me away so he can examine my scabbed wrists. He dips his head, then places his lips there tenderly before dropping his weight onto me.
Linking our fingers together on both sides, Cruce raises my arms above my head and proceeds to slowly fuck me… torsos pressed together, the only movement his hips as they thrust in and out.
It’s slow, luxurious, and consuming.
When his mouth comes back to mine, he fucks me just as sweetly with his tongue.
It goes on and on, and I don’t want it to end.
Yet, all good things do, but with Cruce, at least they end with fireworks. We both orgasm hard and slow at the same time. Brutal shudders of ecstasy rip us apart and let us bleed back into each other.
Cruce merely wraps his arms around me, even as we’re still shaking, and holds me through it.
?
“I needed that,” I murmur, long after we’ve come back down to earth. “I needed to know that we’re okay.”
“Hmmm,” he says, sort of an agreeing type of non-statement. I figure the power of speech might still be absent after how hard we both just came.
“I was thinking of going into the office today,” I say, and he shifts toward me.
“You sure?” he asks with concern. “I mean… it’s only been a few days since—”
“I’m sure,” I cut him off. “I sort of need to have some normal me time, too. Sitting around and doing nothing makes me feel a bit weak.”
His eyes cloud a little, but he gives a nod to show he understands.
“I’d like someone from Jameson to escort you there and back,” he says hesitantly.
“Why?” I ask, shifting so there’s some distance between us and I can see him better. “The danger is over, right?”