And then she’s sinking down, gripping me so hot, wet, and tight with her little cunny. I thrust up, bouncing her on my hips, and she undulates, working me how she wants, using me for her pleasure. I love it, love the way her sweet tips jiggle and sway, the plump firmness of her ass in my hands.

She works me faster and faster, her hips snapping. She arches her back, tilting her head to the side, her eyes closed as she concentrates. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

As though she can hear my thoughts, her eyes open and meet mine. Soft lips part as she leans down, wrapping herself around me. I capture those lips and kiss her like I’m dying. We’re moving with disjointed jerks and thrusts, all sensation and no finesse. She feels so good, so slick and hot. I’m not going to last.

“Are you close?” I pant into her mouth. “Tell me what you need.”

But she only moans, her brows furrowing as she grinds on my cock. With a hand that shakes, I fumble in between us and press my thumb on her swollen clit—hard, just the way she likes it—and she detonates, wailing, her body going loose and helpless. Stella falls into her orgasm, letting it take her, leaving me to handle her body with perfect trust.

The sight of her undone, the rhythmic pulse of her clenching around my cock, has me coming so hard, I forget where I am, who I am. There is only pleasure, and Stella. Always Stella.

I come back to myself in a daze. Stella lays on me, slick and panting, boneless with her release. It takes all my energy to lift my hand and run it through her hair. “If that’s what performing for you gets me,” I tell her on a rasp, “I’ll do it every damn day for the rest of our lives.”

She gives a thready chuckle. “Deal.”

Stella shifts a little and wetness spreads over my thighs. We both stiffen, and Stella lifts her head. I don’t know how to fully read her look. It isn’t horrified but definitely shocked.

“We forgot a condom,” I say quietly.

A guilty half laugh escapes her, even as she flushes deep pink. “I didn’t even think about it.”

My smile is wry, and I tuck a lock of hair back from her cheek. “I didn’t either. That’s … I’ve never done that.” Ever. That protection didn’t even cross my mind is a definite first.

Stella rests her head against my shoulder. “Well, we know we’re clean. I’m on birth control, so …” She trails off.

I’m still inside her, my dick slowly going soft. Now that I know I’m not wearing a condom, my dick stirs with renewed interest. It wants to try that again, slowly, take some time to learn her anew. I tell my dick to shut up.

“Does this mean we can … ah … not use …” I trail off. Shit, I’m such a pig.

Stella looks up at me, hesitant but not pissed. At least not yet. “Do you want to?”

We’re both tiptoeing around the words, neither of us apparently knowing how to just say it. I’ve never had this conversation before. Never wanted to. It feels significant, though. It’s not about the condom—not really—but the fact that we’re discussing how we want to protect ourselves on a more permanent basis.

I press my lips to her head. Of course we’re permanent. I’m totally gone for Stella. “Babe, whatever you want is what we’ll do.”

She wiggles her hip, just enough to make me grunt. There’s a smile in her voice. “I like this. Not having to stop.”

Damn, I like it too. “Then I’ll fuck you without pause from now on,” I tease.

She laughs, and the sound lightens my world.

“Feel better now?” I ask, more seriously.

A sigh leaves her. It’s relaxed and slow. Her hands slide up my sides, leaving shivers in their wake. “Yes. Thank you, John. For taking care of me.”

My throat thickens. “I didn’t do much.”

Blue eyes hold mine. “You did everything that matters.”

We stare at each other. She looks at me with such trust and tenderness that my heart starts to hurt. I want to pull her into me and hide her away from the world, from anything that could ever hurt her. But I know that won’t work. We can’t protect the ones we love; we can only let them know we’ll be there to pick them up when they fall.

The silence between us grows. It isn’t awkward, but filled with something fragile yet heavy. Another shift has rearranged our world, another wall crumbling. Maybe it’s too much for Stella. She turns her head and kisses the crook of my neck, her smile turning coy and teasing. “But maybe we should make sure …”

She doesn’t have to say any more. I roll her onto the couch and thrust. Stella’s laugher turns into another satisfied sigh. This round, I take my time.

Stella

* * *

John takes me home, gives me a bath—curling himself around me as he carefully washes my hair—then takes me to bed. We stay there all the next day, lazing around, indulging in each other. It’s a strange thing, being naked all the time, moving through time in a haze of lust and sex. My body feels different now, hypersensitive yet full and soft and languid. I’m aware of every inch of myself, of him.

God, his body. It’s delicious, solid and tight and warm. I can’t stop touching him. I don’t need to try. The setting sunlight shafts over the bed in golden bands as he reaches for me again. With self-assured ease, he pulls me under him, his mouth finding mine. He hums in appreciation against my lips as he settles between my thighs.

He’s my addiction of choice, making me slowly lose all sense of everything else. There is only him. The press of his hard body against mine, the way he moves against me—a slow rock of his lean hips—is so good, so decadent, I shiver. His erection feels almost heavy as it slides hot and hard over my sex. It will take so little for him to edge back and thrust in. We both know it.

But John studies my face, his eyes taking in every detail. He’s so close, I see the faint scar under his eye, another at the lower corner of his lip. Old, faded marks that tell a story of his life. With a soft touch, he eases a lock of hair away from my cheek.

“John …” I wiggle just a bit, press my sore breasts against his hard chest. “Slide in.” I need it.

A small smile lifts the corners of his mouth. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” God, I’m so hot. I’m shaking with it now.

“You heard me.” He brushes his lips over mine, a tease. “No.”

The round head of his cock kisses my opening before drifting away, and I arch, tight and shivery. “You’re killing me.”

“Good.” All smugness and rocking hips.

“Good?” I glare up at him but can’t hold it, not when I’m panting, not when I’m so empty. “You’re glad that you are torturing me with sex?”

“Mmm …” He ducks his head and slowly licks my nipple. “Proud, even.”

“Sicko. God, do that some more.”

“Shhh …” His teeth nip my breast. “Accept your torture like a good girl, will you?”

“I’m not sure I like you anymore.” My fingers slide through his soft hair, playing with the ends as he suckles just enough to let me feel the heat of his tongue.

I feel his evil smile. “Sure you do.” He kisses his way over to the other breast as his cock grinds against my clit. “Of course, if you really object, you could push me off and take care of business on your own.”