I squeeze my eyes closed. “Yes.”
“Good.” Jem plunges his fingers with a harder rhythm, rubbing my clit at the same time, whispering what he wants to do—what he will to do as I spin away from the shyness that doesn’t belong with this man who is already part of me. Every time I find myself reaching for the edge, he stills his hand and focuses somewhere else –taking my nipple in his mouth or leaving a trail of heat along my breasts and stomach with his tongue. My short breaths become pants; the moans each time he stops are met with a smug smile and heated desire in his eyes.
“Jem, please…” I say when he stops again.
“Now?”
“Inside,” I pant out.
Jem shuffles back and I close my eyes. I hear the noise of the condom wrapper and jerk in surprise when he runs his tongue across my clit again as he rolls the condom on.
“Fucking amazing,” he whispers, stroking me with his tongue. He pauses and I’m ready to scream at him. “I want to make you come first though.”
“No, Jem!” I protest and he laughs, sitting back.
I prop myself up and stare at him kneeling on the floor in front of me, the sight of his muscled body and hard cock tightens my stomach with anticipation.
Should I be doing more to him?
Jem moves up the bed, body covering mine as he presses me into the bed and settles himself between my legs.
“For now, this way.” His eyes glint. “Later, other ways.”
I’m shaking with the need for this, to have him finish what he’s started. I inhale sharply as the tip of him touches my sensitive flesh and for the first time ever I’m giving, not accepting. I shuffle my hips closer as he slides down my wetness, holding himself at the edge of where I want him. I wrap a leg around his waist, attempting to pull him closer, unable to hide the frustrated sounds.
“I have waited too long for this and what makes everything better is you’re fucking loving every moment,” growls Jem.
I dig my nails into his side and he rocks against me, slowly, teasingly, pushing himself inside then edging back out. I lose the last control I’m holding onto. “Jem, just fuck me!”
“Ah, your mouth… Jesus…” Jem lets go, plunging into me and I gasp as he fills me completely.
I grip him tightly, wrapping my legs tighter around Jem’s waist and gripping his back. Jem has me consumed—body, heart, and soul. We hold each other’s gaze, an intimacy I’ve never had in sex. The final connection, looking into each other’s vulnerabilities, of seeing everything we’re feeling in each other’s expressions ramps up the physical sensations crashing through with each thrust.
Jem slides in and out of me, harder each time, and I match his rhythm with my hips, wanting all of him too. He moves a hand beneath my ass, pulling me upwards as he pushes deeper, bumping my sensitive clit with each move, sending me spiralling further to a new place. I hold Jem tightly; and he groans pushing his tongue into my mouth, joining the movement we create.
Unable to hold out any longer, the pressure built inside explodes. The tingle spreads, reaching from my scalp to my toes, deep inside. I’m aware of crying out as the pleasure comes in waves and I open my eyes, vision blackened by the intensity.
Jem watches as I fall apart in his arms but doesn’t slow. “Holy fuck, Ruby…” He swears repeatedly and his face changes to pleasure that matches mine, lost in his own intense moment as he closes his eyes and slams into me one last time. Jem drops onto me, heart thudding against mine, gripping my hair, and covering my face with kisses.
I cling to Jem and he holds me close as we stay in a silent understanding, panting gradually becoming sighs, kisses back to tender and our perspiring skin burning against each other. I bury my face into Jem’s shoulder and he strokes my hair. We don’t have words, although I burst to tell him what he did to me, how he showed me that I matter.
The intense pleasure still coursing through my body is because this was for us, and not his own satisfaction and I’m fighting the tears that pushes into my eyes.
“Be right back,” he whispers.
When Jem returns from the bathroom and climbs onto the bed, I rest my cheek on his damp chest and play my fingers along the defined muscles of the body that just connected with mine the way nobody’s ever has.
Sex takes on a new understanding, more than a one-sided act for gratification, not something that’s done to me. But with that rushes the fear I shared more than my body at the point he looked into my eyes and saw my soul unhidden. Did Jem give me a glimpse of his too?
“I don’t do all the post-sex loved-up bullshit, by the way,” he says, winding a finger through my hair.
I smile; this is the Jem I expected. “I don’t want you to lie to me. That’s fine.”
“Yeah, mind-melting orgasms I can do, sweet nothings, not so much.”
I chuckle. “You don’t need to apologise.”
“I’m not apologising. I’m stating a fact.” He rubs his nose against mine. “Give me a few minutes and you can have something better than sweet nothings.”
“A few minutes?” I say doubtfully.
“Oh, you bet. There is so much more I want to do with you.”
Jem drags the duvet until the soft cotton covers our bodies and our hearts slow together, to a shared rhythm. In this space, with this man, something is different. Whatever sparked between us, and was denied for weeks, has been kindled into something that burns stronger than I think either of us will be able to control.