It did. He thrust into her, slowly, until she was full. Again, he held there, but now his arms shook. A flush rose and colored his cheeks. He was holding back. And still staring.
Petra flexed her hips. Oh, that felt good; he hit all the right places in all the right ways.
The groan that left Jake’s mouth was low and deep and jagged. It seemed pulled from the deepest reaches of his soul. Then he dropped his head and tucked his face against her neck. But still he didn’t move. For a moment, endless, they were only embracing, as completely joined as two people could be, but not seeking more than the joining itself.
Petra wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fed her fingers through his hair, and held him.
When at last he began to move, he didn’t lift his head, and she didn’t move her arms or legs. Wrapped inside her embrace, he rocked his hips back and forth, slow and deliberate. They went on like that for a long time. Petra felt the tension mounting in his body in tandem with the pleasure mounting in hers.
This was the way to have a second orgasm. Not like it was a prize to be won, but simply the ineluctable destination of this act.
When he came, he did so with no sound but that of a held breath straining for release. Also quietly, she came right after, a gentle bliss, while he still throbbed inside her.
They lay in that position long afterward. Petra again wondered what Jake was thinking, if his thoughts were in sync with hers. Eventually, he rose back to his elbows and looked down at her again. As he did so, he rocked his hips back and slipped out of her. She gasped at the loss. He groaned in echo.
And then he cleared his throat, and she knew their magical moment was over.
“Should ...” he cleared his throat again. “Should I go?”
Smiling, she brushed his hair back. “Do you want to go?”
He shook his head.
“Then stay.”
––––––––
~oOo~
––––––––
When Petra woke, thesun streamed through her bedroom windows and across her bed, setting her eyeballs aflame behind her lids. She’d forgotten to close her curtains last night.
That thought reminded her why she’d forgotten about curtains, and she rolled to her back, a smile ready to be deployed.
But Jake was gone. Sitting up, she looked at the chair where he’d put his clothes. It was empty. The bedroom door was, as always, open, and she could see that the bathroom door was as well. He wasn’t in there.
Already knowing he was gone, she listened anyway, but heard nothing but the empty apartment of a woman who lived alone.
Disappointment wanted to settle on her shoulders, but she shrugged it away. It was for the best that he was gone. A brash outlaw biker nine years younger than her should not be anything more than a one-off. A truly memorable one-off, but a one-off nonetheless.
Obviously, he agreed on that point, and he’d done her the favor of avoiding the inevitable next-morning awkwardness.
It was for the best.
No question.
No question at all.