“Yeah, love. That’s all that matters. You and me and this moment.”
But I couldn’t just sit on him either. I had to feel more. I rolled my hips and felt him slide through me. In, and out, slow, gentle, unhurried. All of him beautifully bare inside me, and then the aching space of emptiness as I drew away, and then glutting on him as I took him into me again. My face near his, his breath on my lips.
And now I had to kiss him.
I tasted his tongue and the salt water on his lips and I took his breath for my own and let my hips define their own rhythm upon him—slowly rolling him inside me and rushing through then pulling away so I could take him in again, and each time he filled me I cried out with renewed ecstasy. He was moaning, a soft almost boyish sound of pleasure, the moan fading as I drew away and becoming louder as I plunged down on him. The moans became a whisper of my name, and then a chant, almost sang in a rough voice— “Lex...Lex…Lexie, oh god Lex, yes my love…”
“Call me baby, call me love, call me sweetheart, call me darling,” I murmured to him, moving with slow consistent rhythm. “Tell me how much you love me. Tell me how good I feel.”
He let himself move now, too, his hands on my hips, gripping roughly and helping me to slam down, encouraging me to move faster, harder, even as I resisted so I could make this last forever. “I love you so fuckin’ much, Lex, baby—you feel so incredible like this. I love watchin’ you ride me, darlin’, love to see you feeling good on top of me. I wanna watch you come, baby—come for me, Lex. Touch your pussy, make yourself come so I can hear you scream. Come for me, Lex, right the fuck now, baby. Come for me and scream my name and tell me you love me while you’re coming on top of me.”
“Oh fuck—Myles,” I gasped, bent forward to crush my upper body onto his, forehead on his chest as I rolled my hips in a faster rhythm and slid my hand between our bodies to obey him—because his order was exactly what I wanted, what I needed.
I touched myself and felt lightning gather low in my belly, building to quaking thunderheads. He moved, gave me the speed and friction and rhythm and fullness I craved, and my circling fingers gave me the clitoral stimulation to fling myself to the edge, closer to the wild hot screaming threshold of orgasm, and my thighs shook and my belly tightened and my breasts heaved and trembled as I gasped helplessly, my ass slapping down on his thighs to meet his roughening, desperate thrusts.
“Myles,” I whispered, my voice too ragged and lost in emotion to speak properly. “Don’t stop, baby, please don’t stop, I’m so fucking close.”
My fingers flew wildly, and his thrusts were hard and fast and shook my whole body with vigorous force, and I loved each one, loved each naked thrust of his cock into my aching clenching sex.
“Come for me, Lex. Please, I need to feel you come.”
I was crying again and didn’t care, now, because it was all too much. I was there. “Ohhh god, oh love, oh god Myles—now, now, now!” My voice broke as I came, and sobs racked me as white-hot lightning seared and crackled and shot through me, centered in my core and making my whole body seize, thrashing, and then a scream was wrenched out of me as I found my voice.
I heard him roar, but the rushing in my ears of my hammering pulse was so loud even his roar was drowned out, and I was blinded by lights flashing behind my tightly squeezed eyes, and I couldn’t move, was paralyzed by the ripping intensity of my climax—
And I felt him loose his own orgasm. Felt his cock throb, swelling thicker inside me, felt him push up so his spine was arched off the bed and his heels were scrabbling at the mattress and lifting me up higher even as I collapsed on him and clung desperately to him and shook all over and felt my pussy squeezing and I bore down, squeezing harder and his cry went ragged.
I felt him come.
“Oh fuck, yes, Myles, I fucking love you Myles, I love you, oh god I love you,” I said, my voice ragged and broken and wet with tears and shaking with awe. “More, Myles—give me more, give me more.”
He sank down to the mattress, and I pulled away, up—his hands clawed into my ass, clutching with mad bruising strength, and he jerked me down, hard, thrusting into me, pouring his cum into me in a hot flood of thick spurts, growling and gasping with each one, and I felt them, accepted his orgasm into me and squeezed around him and rode him frantically as my own orgasm continued, expanded, broke open into another, a harder one. I sat up, then, balanced on him and leaned backward, head tilted up, breasts thrust to the ceiling, and his hands covered them and squeezed them and then he pinioned my hips and helped me roll and ride and lift up and slam down. He was still throbbing inside me, still pouring rush after rush of seed into me and I was screaming and he was groaning—
And then his eyes flicked open at the same moment as mine did, our gazes locking
