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“Your prostate.”

He added a second finger, slowly stretching me open. And all the while, he whispered nasty, sweet nothings, praising my gorgeous dick, my hot ass, my tattoos, my stomach, my nipples.…You name it, George loved it.

And me? I was a sucker for it. Hey, I knew who I was. I had a few extra pounds and enough chest hair for both of us, but the way he looked at me made me feel kinda powerful…even if I was the one lying there with my legs open, waiting for him to take control.

George pulled his fingers out and rolled on the condom. He added lube, tapped his cock at my entrance, and pushed. It felt…full. And it hurt.

I gritted my teeth. “Slower.”

George bent to kiss me. “Baby, that’s just the tip.”

“That’s a very big tip.”

“Relax. I’ve got you.”

He was a million times more patient than me. He paused often and went completely still until I indicated I was okay with a quick nod. When he was balls deep, he waited for my signal and finally began to move. And honestly, I wasn’t ready.

Pain faded and that initial wave of pleasure I’d felt when he first brushed my prostate turned into a tsunami. Every roll of his hips ignited a new surge of desire and need.

“More. Faster,” I begged, resting my legs on his ass as I jacked myself.

George delivered, bucking his hips a little faster, then faster still. The subtle squeak of the bedsprings escalated, and the headboard hit the wall as he thrust deeper inside me, twisting my nipples, sucking my tongue, and talking, talking, talking…

“You’re so fucking hot. Your ass is so tight. Squeeze my dick, baby. That’s it. Love this hole. This is mine. Got it?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Keep going. Fuck me, G.”

“Look at me when you come. I want to watch you. I want—”

“I’m coming,” I roared.

George didn’t stop. He pistoned his hips, and damn, he was the stuff of every fantasy I’d never allowed myself to go along with.

He was free and unfettered. He owned himself…the pieces he understood and the parts he shielded. He was the smartest, most complex person I’d ever met. And he was inside me. Moving with intent, gauging my every reaction, riding me until his rhythm faltered and his orgasm finally caught up with him.

At some point, George went to search for a towel. My mind was blank, and my body was sore but sated. Like I had during every “first” he’d introduced me to over the past month, I paused to see if I’d freak out. ’Cause let’s be real—if ever there was a time to freak out, now would be it.

But no…I was floating on a fucking cloud.

“Here you go.” He handed me a towel and a water bottle. Then, flopping onto the bed, he rolled to face me.

I cleaned up, uncapped the water, and took a generous gulp. “Did you want some?”

“No, thanks. Are you okay?” he asked when I lay beside him.

“Yes, but I need a minute. That was…intense.” I smoothed out the crease in his brow. “In a good way. I never thought I’d want that.”

“But you liked it?”

“A lot.”

George beamed. “Good. Me too.”

My stomach growled on cue. “But I might need another cookie.”

He kissed me soundly. “Or some real food. Come on. Let’s go raid the fridge.”

I rolled on top of him, pinning his arms above his head. “One more thing. We need to add a rule. As long as we’re…together, we’re exclusive.”

He grinned. “I like that rule.”

“Good. Now my ass hurts and my stomach is grumbling. Feed me, Murphy.”

I rained kisses all over his face and tickled his sides, relenting when he almost kneed me in the nuts. I draped myself over him, thinking any second now he’d gasp for air, but he surprised me again, wrapping himself around me like an octopus.

The show of unguarded sweetness wasn’t George’s usual style. He could be playful for sure, but he kept his shields in place. He never left himself open for long. Vulnerability wasn’t something he risked. But I was on the inside now. And it was a very fucking cool place to be.

9

George

Full stop. SHE SAID YES.

Okay. Awesome. I responded to Newton’s text with a thumbs-up and an appropriate congratulations message before setting my phone facedown on the counter. I crossed my arms and let my mind drift as I stared out the window.

I didn’t want to jinx myself, but I had to admit, life was good.

I’d opted not to borrow my mom’s car and went home with Aiden last weekend instead. We didn’t do anything exciting. We both had to study. Aiden’s version involved stat sheets and televised baseball games while mine was more traditional. I lay on his sofa with my legs draped over his knees and a pair of borrowed noise-canceling headphones on my ears, reading and memorizing a few chapters from my quantum mechanics textbook, surprised at how easy it was to be in the same room…and just be.


Tags: Lane Hayes The Script Club Romance