Page 56 of Get A Fix

“You have to move,” he rasped, and I could hear his need the same as I could feel the thirst coiling in my gut. “Be done with being careful. I want all of you right now.”

I wasn’t going to make him tell me again or beg or plead. That wasn’t us. I eased back a fraction, then thrust inside, deep and hard.

“More, Cooper,” he crooned.

I lost myself then. The sound of him, the pull of his body, the heat, his smell…I was hammering into him in moments. The pounding was endless, I loved every second, and when the rush of my impending orgasm heated my skin, rolling up my spine, I pulled out quickly.

“Have you lost your mind?” he roared at me.

“I want to see you,” I said, rolling him to his back, taking the pillow from his hands and shoving it under his hips. “I want to see your face, your eyes. I want you looking at me the whole time.”

“Yes,” he answered, the sound of him, languid and ready, pulling me to him as I lifted his legs over my shoulders.

I held his gaze as I slid easily back inside his warm, willing body, and when I thrust and he clenched around me, wanting me in deeper, needing me not to pull back, only push, I willingly complied.

“Grab hold of your cock,” I ordered.

“I just want your mouth,” he husked, lifting, and I bent and kissed him, my tongue taking absolute possession of his while I lost myself in him and drove home.

His muscles tightened like a vise around my length, rippling, clenching, and there was thick, wet warmth between us as I rutted through his orgasm and my own.

Coming inside a lover was something I loved and treasured, and because of that, with my heart constricted with tender feelings, I didn’t think, just collapsed on top of him, driving myself that much deeper inside him as I pressed him down on the bed.

Arms and legs wrapped me up tight, and my face was pressed into the side of his neck as we both panted and tried to breathe. Honestly, it wasn’t all that necessary, only the closeness was, the connection.

Once I could hear his breathing even out, I lifted up slowly, taking time and care to ease as gently as I could from his overly sensitized channel. When I finally looked at his face, I was surprised at the narrow slits of green regarding me.

“I should go get a washcloth to⁠—”

“No,” he whispered, catching my shoulder with one hand, my bicep with the other. “Lie down. I want your skin next to mine.”

I moved fast, and his husky chuckle was my reward. Cuddling after sex was my favorite and something very few people wanted to do. I loved the aftermath of sex. The lingering musk of two people moving together, wet spots on the sheets that had to be navigated, and flushed, sweaty skin. I never wanted to leave the bed, just stay there, joined, breathing in tandem.

“I just want to lie here,” he whispered, rubbing his chin in my hair.

“Yes, please,” I whispered back.

“You’re in trouble, you know.”

“Why?”

“I get attached quickly.”

“Oh, that’s horrible,” I murmured. “The most beautiful man I’ve ever met, who also thinks I’m funny and⁠—”

“—sexy and hypnotic and great in bed,” he added. “Don’t forget any of that.”

“No, no, I won’t. But would it be so terrible if you got attached to me?”

“I live in California.”

“Which is lovely, but Chicago has its charm.”

“Does it?”

“It has me, and you would like my parents.”

“I suspect I would.”