I lean back into the window, experiencing the cold glass, but not caring. Because his fingertips are pulling his shirt out of his pants. Unbuttoning each button slowly. Carefully. His gaze locked on mine when I look up.
He takes a breath. Breathes it out. Then takes off his shirt.
I will never get tired of looking at his body.
I reach for him. Splay my fingers wide across the right side of his chest, feeling his heart beating fast. He grabs my breast again. Lifts up from the bottom so he’s cupping me with his hand.
His mouth becomes a small crooked smile and I know he’s feeling my heart beating fast too.
There is one moment now. Just one where we are still. Connected by these hearts. Just one person.
Then he’s pushing me against the glass again, his mouth seeking another kiss. It’s urgent this time. I reach down for his belt and unbuckle it quickly, lost in the soft jingling it makes. Like fairies in the woods calling us home.
The button is popped, the zipper dragged down… and then I take him in my hand and squeeze.
“Kiera,” he whispers. “Don’t ever stop,” he says, pulling my leggings down. Reaching under my knees to lift me up. Balancing me against the window as he presses himself into me. Connects us, skin to skin.
His cock is between my legs, hard and ready. I grip his shoulders tight with one hand and reach between my legs to place him at my entrance.
“No foreplay?” he asks, smiling.
“This whole night was foreplay. I don’t get any more ready than this,” I reply, just as he thrusts forward, filling me up, hard and fast, until I gasp and he relents, satisfied that he’s inside me as deep as he can get.
Our bodies still for a moment as we kiss again. I imagine him thrusting hard. Fucking my brains out in front of this window. I imagine how dirty it looks. My leggings stretched tight at my knees, which are pressed up against my breasts. The wild look of lust and longing in his eyes as he pulls out, just a little, just enough, and then slowly pushes himself back in deep.
And then he does that again. And again. And again. Connor loves me in a way I’ve never experienced before. Never even dreamed of before. It’s agonizingly slow. It’s painfully soft. It’s excruciatingly perfect.
But I want more. I am greedy, I know this. I am selfish to need him so much. My desire so ravenous. My lust so voracious. My longing so… so… so insatiable.
And he reads me. He sees my feelings like I see his. He turns them all into words and writes his own story about me. About us.
He says, “Yes.”
And that’s all he needs to say. Just one word is all we need.
So I say it back.
“Yes.”
It’s a signal to begin again. To start a new chapter or maybe a new book.
He goes faster. Pulling and pushing. In and out of me. I grip him every way I know how. With my knees against the hard muscles of his arms. With my fingers, digging into his shoulders, unable and unwilling to let him go. With my pussy as I clench around his cock and let him know that yes, he is all I need to be satisfied.
With my kiss, as our tongues tell the whole story.
We are as physically close as two people can be to each other when one is being held sexually captive, fucked hard up against a window. But our feelings… the love. It’s possible to get closer in love, so I reach for him the only other way I know how.
I reach for him with my soul.
And he’s got a net, or a web, or maybe a trap—ready to catch me.
I don’t know how long I spend in that trap. I don’t care. The world stops, and time stops, and we hold each other captive as we come.
Him moaning. And me, moaning.
And I think, as he leans into me, head on my shoulder, breath coming out in long, winded gasps… I think… I know him now.
I know him.
Eventually the world turns again. Time starts back up. He releases my soul and I release his soul, and he carries me over to the bed and gently puts me down on top of the covers.
He stands there in his unbuckled pants, his chest bare, looking down at me.
And then he takes off my boots. He drags the leggings down and discards them on the floor. He toes off his shoes, and takes off his pants, and gets on the bed next to me.
We’re both cold, my nipples tight, pulling the skin of my breasts taut. But then he covers me with himself. His cold skin touches my cold skin and together we become warm.