César carefully rolled me onto my back. He lay above me, his weight off but his skin pressed to mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled his head down to kiss me. He moved in small circles, teasing my breasts against his pecs, teasing my clit against his cock, which was still rock-hard. “Come inside me,” I murmured against his lips.
“No, I want to kiss you first.”
He meant, kiss me everywhere. He slid his lips down my throat, nibbling and biting, and across my collarbones, kissing in the hollows there. As he went, his hands massaged, first up my arms, and then to my breasts. His mouth followed. He kissed and licked in a spiral around my breast until finally his lips arrived at my nipple and he suckled, gently, and when I pushed up towards him, harder.
I panted his name. While he toyed with my nipples, I grabbed his hand and put it between my legs. I swayed my hips against his palm, reaching for another orgasm, begging him for one. César left my breasts and skated his mouth across the swell of my tummy, the cut of my hipbones, and to the soft skin between my thighs. He licked across my clit and I came up off the bed as I pulsed around his mouth. Again, and more.
César turned my quivering body onto my side. “Cammie, I can’t wait,” he said, and he moved behind me and thrust inside me. He held my leg, his fingers massaging my thigh, so he could plunge deeper and harder.
I just screamed. I had never felt anything like this—the pure pleasure, the need. He pounded faster and pressed his palm between my legs and I came again, and again, until I was just lost in a haze of ecstasy.
“Cammie, honey,” he growled, and he moaned as his hips jerked. He held me tightly to his body. “Was I too rough?”
“Never.” And I felt so full with him still huge inside me, so satiated and wrung-out, I thought I’d never leave his bed. When he moved a little, as if to get up, I grabbed at his arm and twisted my face to look at him. “Stay here, please.”
“I’m here.” He looked down at me, wrapped up in his arms, and then he kissed me deeply. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
∞
“What time is it?” César asked sleepily. His voice was so deep in the morning.
I didn’t care. We had spent the rest of the night kissing, leisurely petting, laughing, and screwing. Multiple instances of that. I had never had so many orgasms in my life. Even now, with me so tired that I could barely open my eyes, I thought that if he touched me, I would come again.
Actually, that sounded like a good plan. Instead of looking for my phone to check the time, I burrowed into César and licked his nipple. I had found several things he really liked that I could do with my tongue and torturing/pleasuring him that way was already my new favorite hobby. According to him, this was something I definitely should have written in the Special Talents of the questionnaire I had filled out all those months ago.
César groaned as I bit him gently. “Shit, I’m already hard for you,” he told me and I reached down to check on that as his fingers found my ass and kneaded. “Hang on, I have a flight. Give me one second,” he requested, and I reluctantly stopped my attentions. His one hand left my butt to fumble on the nightstand and then his body stiffened when the light from his phone came on, and not exactly the stiffness I was looking for. He jumped up. “We overslept!”
I sat in bed and watched César rush around. It was an interesting experience to be the one who wasn’t late for a change. While he hurried to get dressed, he called out suggestions to me about sleeping, about driving carefully, about exercise, about meals. I finally got out of bed and ambled over to stop him. I didn’t bother to cover up and his eyes darkened as he watched me move. I swayed my hips a little.
“Don’t worry so much,” I told him. “You won’t be gone for that long, and we’ll be fine.”
He stopped his frenetic movement to run his hands up and down my sides and over my stomach. “It’s hard to leave you. Especially now, with what just happened between us.” His hands moved to my breasts, cupping and lifting them, and I moaned softly, my eyes fluttering closed.
“I’m not that late. We have some time,” he muttered, and then his pants came back off and I was glad I was already naked.
“I made it,” he texted to me later. “Barely. On the plane now.”
I sent him a picture of my healthy, protein-packed breakfast. “Call me when you get to Chicago,” I wrote back. I had said that we would be fine, but the house already felt empty and lonely without him there. I felt empty and lonely, too.
“Take care of yourself,” he answered, and then sent a list of people I could contact if I needed anything, from picking up something heavy, to if the power went out, to if I suddenly required a lawyer. It made me smile and then burst into tears.
What was I doing? What in the hell had I done with him, to him? I sat at the counter and put my head down on the purple granite to feel the cold surface against my face. I felt a little dizzy and sick to my stomach, and I couldn’t eat the healthy breakfast I had made. Instead, I went off to work.
“Why the long face?” Lyle the security guard asked me when he saw me in Woodsmen Stadium, walking down the hallway to my little office. I worked in what I thought might have been a converted janitor’s closet, and the desk was so small that it barely
