“My apologies. I didn’t realize you were going to explode.”
“If I do, I’m going to take you down with me.”
“And this, after I rescued you from that killer spider?”
“Condoms. Nightstand. Drawer.”
Those are three words I actually do understand. Maybe Lu-Anne is right. I’m not sure I can take things slow and do any more foreplay, either. Even if I’m the one touching her, I might be the one exploding at the first taste of her.
I make quick work of finding the condoms and getting one on. When I turn back around, Lu-Anne eyes me up. One brow lifts a little.
“Jesus. I didn’t realize—I mean, I touched you, but—I—can you please go at a pace where you won’t destroy me with that?”
It takes a lot to embarrass me. I can’t remember the last time I even blushed. I’m pretty sure my face is currently on fire, so I duck and curl back onto the bed, stretching out over Lu-Anne’s beautiful, much smaller form.
I claim her lips hard, kissing her deep until we’re both lost in it. She wriggles against me, lifting and opening her hips and spreading her legs until I’m nestled between them. I slowly fit myself to her opening. She’s soaking wet, even wetter than when I had my mouth there.
She gasps against my lips as I slowly ease myself in. I make sure to take my time, so I don’t hurt her. God help me, she’s tight. She’s so tight and warm and so wet, and I can feel just about all of it even with the condom on. She rocks her hips against me, going anything but slowly until I’m fully seated inside of her.
If all the wriggling and grinding are any indication, Lu-Anne wants me to start moving, so I do. I slowly withdraw and push back in.
“More,” she pants. “More, god… Wade…”
That pretty much gets the pace going. That and Lu-Anne shifting to wrap her long, silky legs around my hips. She digs her heels into my ass. Hard. My jaw knows for a fact that she can do some real damage with those babies, so I comply with her silent demands.
She reaches up and wraps her hands around my neck, holding on tight as I brace myself with my arms at either side of her face. I have to close my eyes and concentrate even though I’d much rather watch the pleasure play over her face. Although, if she opened her eyes and caught me staring at her, maybe she’d think it was creepy.
I can feel her body trembling below me. Her nails dig into my shoulders when I pick up the pace, and her hot breath puffs out against my ear. All I can think about is how good she feels and how she needs to come first because despite what I said about being good for round two all the way up to twenty—which I know I am—I seriously want to satisfy her first.
Her body bucks below me, and I just hope—as I start thrusting hard enough to make the brass headboard, which I didn’t even realize was brass before because no, I wasn’t paying attention to headboards or anything else when I brought Lu-Anne back into her room or when I was in here the first time, smack against the wall—I can hold out long enough.
I set a pretty furious pace, but Lu-Anne keeps up, grinding and rocking, arching and moaning, right in time with me. She’s a perfect fit. This wild, spider fearing, breaking and entering, imaginative, slightly crazy in a good way woman. She’s my perfect fit.
That thought just about scares me badly enough that I freeze up, but Lu-Anne digs her heels into my ass a little harder, arches until her breasts slam into my chest, throws back her head, and comes. Her nails rake over my shoulders lightly as she rides out the waves. Amazing waves. Strong waves. Waves that I can feel clenching around my cock as I continue to move inside of her.
I lose control, or rather, I surrender right after she does. I surrender to her because she’s magnificent. Because there’s no way that I could possibly hope to stay sane. Because she’s incredible and amazing, and I’ve never had a fit like this in my life, and I’m not just talking about how our bodies move together.
After I come down from my high, and so I don’t crush her when I doubt I can hold myself up any longer, I flop down beside her as gracefully as I can, which isn’t very graceful at all. I pull Lu-Anne into my arms, and she comes to me willingly. She doesn’t fight me off, tell me I’m sticky or smelly or that she doesn’t do cuddling. She rests her head on my chest and runs gentle circles over my ink with her index finger while I catch my breath.