So this didn’t feel like her first kiss.
But it was the first kiss that had offered her a future in a long, long time.
When it was over, his big, warm hand on her hip supported her as she got to her feet. Immediately, she turned around and extended her own hand, a mute offer of assistance. He took it and gave her some of his weight as he rose. Because he trusted her strength, trustedherenough to relinquish some of his independence and let her help.
Because he wasn’t alone anymore, and he wouldn’t be again.
When they made it back to the hotel room, they reached foreach other as soon as the door thumped shut behind them. They stripped off their clothes and tumbled beneath the covers, but not to fuck. At least, not right away.
Tucking her close, he smoothed his palms down her spine, her sides, her arms. Anywhere he could reach. Each time she put her mouth to his ear and whispered something else she adored about him—his sharp intelligence, his ready wit, his protectiveness of her, his stubborn determination, his undeniable talent—his hands paused for a moment, then kept sliding slowly over her bare skin until she was nearly liquid with pleasure.
“Gods above, I love you,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his earlobe.
When he buried his face in her neck, she sifted his hair through her fingers in the way that always gave him goose bumps. And when her neck grew damp, she didn’t say a thing.
Some emotions needed to be acknowledged.
Others could remain private.
Later, when he braced himself above her, head bowed so he could nuzzle against her cheek as he slid inside her body, he offered the words to her freely, unprompted, his voice hoarse and broken and fierce.
“Fuck, I love you, Maria.” With his first jolting thrust, he pushed even deeper. So deep his breath caught for a moment, and so did hers. “Move in with me. Please.”
“Okay,” she said, wrapping her legs around those busy hips.
He paused midthrust. “Shit, if I’d known it was that easy—”
“Keep going,skitstövel. As they say in American medical dramas: ten ccs of dick, stat.”
Her slap of his ass probably hurt her hand more than his butt,but it did the trick. He started moving again. Moving and snort-laughing.
“Isn’t that, like, a tiny amount of dick?” He slipped a hand between their bodies and found her clit, his grin wide and bright. “You just want the tip?”
“Feel free to increase my dosage,” she told him, and for the very first time in her life, she had a man in her bed who gave her an orgasm after they both laughed until they cried.
Good tears.
The best she’d ever had.
YouTube Comments for “More Interviews Going Off the Rails: Maria Ivarsson & Peter Reedton, Part 2”
Bea’sKnees2 years ago
I... I don’t understand. They’re not dating? How are they not dating? Whenever she turns her head away, he’s GAZING at her in total adoration. Especially right after she brings out that jarred fish and shakes it around like an inch from his nose, for whatever reason.
Which raises another critical question: Where the heck did that fish come from??? Because it seems to appear from nowhere, and I don’t understand???
Gods of the Gates Forever2 years ago
I’m not saying that Peter Reedton wants to leap up from his chair and drag Maria Ivarsson to the floor and have his bearded way with her. I’m simply saying I’m pretty sure that happened a millisecond after the camera stopped rolling, because that dude was THIRSTY for a tall, tall glass of Swedish whatever-they-drink-in-Sweden. Jeez.
DinoTheWino1 year ago
I’ve never wanted someone to affectionately call me a sh*t-boot more.*** Keep living the dream, Reedton!
***Of course, before this video, I had no idea Swedes were total weirdos who called people sh*t-boots, so.
Model Railroad Guy in Reno1 year ago