Ash swiveled and ground and pumped her hips hard. He hoped to hell she was close, because he’d been close before he even got inside of her. The only reason he was hanging on was sheer will power and the fucking condom that cut off just enough feeling that he was able to hold back.
The rocking and grinding grew more intense. He felt the shivers in Ash’s thighs, which were locked so tightly around him it was almost uncertain where he began, and she ended. He certainly felt the tremors deep inside of her, the way her muscles clenched hard around his cock.
She let out a breathy sigh right before her cries of pleasure exploded into the room. His name was dragged out somewhere in the moans and the whimpers and the hoarse screams.
Trace lost it. He gripped her hips, dug his fingers into her ass and rocked her hard onto his cock. He drove deep inside of her, his hips flexing and pulsing since he wasn’t holding back any longer. Ash’s muscles clenched him hard, pulsing and throbbing and his whole world exploded.
His vision dimmed, his cock went rigid, his balls pulled up so far it felt like he’d just inhaled them into his throat, and he could only say that he exploded. Trace came harder than he could ever remember coming. He came and came and fucking came until he was drenched in sweat, every single muscle in his body tight and hard as stone. He couldn’t remember what was happening or his name or anything else about what they’d done that night or what they were going to do the next night. It was just them, just him and her and their bodies. God, he felt his climax right down to his toes. He was pretty sure, just like those cartoons, that smoke exploded out of his ears.
Ash fell forward. She collapsed against him, the sticky sweat of their bodies combining as she wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a breathy kiss on his lips. She felt good there, so incredibly right. The aftershocks of her orgasm pulsed around his cock and his throbbed inside of her in response.
Trace studied Ash’s face for a minute before her eyes lazily flickered open. She stared at him through those adorably hooded lids. She looked like a woman who had just been thoroughly fucked and sated, though he was far from being finished with her.
He wanted her in every way possible. His cock flexed hard, letting her know what it thought about the idea. His inner caveman was doing a fierce male war dance, beating its chest and crying out loud masculine grunts.
“I- you’re still…” she blushed and turned her face.
“Hard?” He grinned. He reached up and guided her back to looking at him. God, he loved her eyes. He loved the way her lips remained parted so that she could let out those sexy raspy breaths between them. “You bet. You’re so damn sexy, Ash. This is how I’ve been walking around since we met in the coffee shop. This is what you do to me. I could barely make it through dinner. I wanted to pull you across the table and pleasure you right there. I want to- I want to have you in every way, in every position, on every surface in this apartment.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but she didn’t protest. Instead she leaned forward and twined her fingers through the dark strands of his hair. “I didn’t know that- that men could- I mean, I thought it takes a while before…”
“Not with you it doesn’t. Never with you.”
“I’m not- I mean- I’m just average looking…”
“No.” Trace brought her face back to his and kissed her until her body responded. Her hips ground down and her inner muscles flexed and clenched around him. “But for now, I’ll give you a break. I’m starving. Let’s order a pizza and you can put on some horrible romantic comedy and I’ll pick just where it is that I want to take you next. I think- maybe- the shower.”
“The shower?” she gasped.
“Yes. The shower. Unless you prefer the kitchen counter, the table, the couch, the floor, hell, we could even get one of those swing contraptions and try the roof.”
The contractions that squeezed the life out of his cock told him that she liked that idea. Or one of them. Maybe all of them. “You’re unbelievable,” she whispered thickly. She stroked her hand down his cheek and over his jawline. He turned and pressed a kiss into her palm, and she gasped again, that sweet feminine inhale of breath that drove him mental.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I- it’s a good thing.” Her smile grew, becoming sexier, and more confident. “It’s definitely a good thing.”