by Maura Rose
“Something you need?” Dan asked, chuckling darkly.
Heather resisted the urge to kick him in the head. “You know what I need.”
Dan cocked his head, as if thinking. “Hmmm, do I?”
Heather tossed her head back. “Please,” she begged. “Okay, fine, please, please, just—”
Dan gave her a proud look, like he was congratulating her for asking so nicely. Then he finally, finally, lapped at her clit, sucking on it, and Heather was keening, grabbing onto the sheets so that she wouldn’t dig her nails into Dan’s skin too much. Then he slid a finger into her, crooking it upwards, getting her clit from the inside and the outside, and Heather was panting, every nerve ending on fire and then Dan was adding one, then two more fingers, in rapid succession, speeding up a little as if he knew, he knew that she liked the feeling of that burn, that stretch, the blurred line between pleasure and pain, and Heather was going to honestly kill him if he didn’t—
Dan raked his teeth over her clit, ever so lightly, just a hint, but it was enough. Heather arched up, her hips giving a spasm, her mouth falling open in a silent, chocked-off oh of pleasure and surprise.
She was still panting when Dan crawled up her body, looking probably about as smug as she had a few minutes ago. “I’m going to get you back for that,” she said weakly.
“I look forward to it,” Dan assured her, rolling the condom on. “Are you still up for…?”
Heather hooked her leg around his ankle and executed the same move that had gotten him into her apartment, flipping him over and landing on top. “I wrestled a lot as a kid,” she explained, grinning at Dan’s shocked expression, and then she was lowering herself down onto his cock and forgetting that wrestling or anything else existed outside of this present moment between them.
There was still a voice at the back of her head telling her that she didn’t deserve this, that this was incredibly wrong of her, that she was setting herself up for disaster and going to break Dan’s heart. It was far too hard to care about much of anything when she was feeling stretched full, all of that building tension now being wound tight inside of her, growing with a pulse of heat and pleasure each time she sank down onto him. Dan watched her with wide eyes, his hands sliding up and down her body, light pinching her nipples and trailing down her stomach, like he just couldn’t stop touching her, like was starving for it.
She could tell that Dan wanted to set a faster pace, but she was on top, so she was drawing this out and keeping it slow. She could see that it was killing him, the way she was raising herself up, then sinking all the way down, rolling her hips a little with it, and then repeating the process again slowly. She loved the thick stretch of him, the slowly rising pleasure in the base of her spine, but after a while she was starting to get impatient too, wanted to ride that wave until it crested and consumed her, so she leaned down and kissed him.
“Go for it,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his.
Dan threaded his fingers in her hair and kept her close to him, surging up to kiss the life out of her, his hips moving fast and hard and yes, perfect, and Heather promised to never forget this feeling, never, not even when this inevitably fell apart, she was never going to forget it, and she screamed into Dan’s mouth as she came, shuddering, feeing oddly complete and thinking oh, oh, oh, this is what it feels like when you’re in love with them.
Afterward, she got a warm washcloth from her bathroom and they took turns cleaning each other up, kissing along each other’s bodies, memorizing the feel of one another. Dan kissed the spot beneath her ear and down her neck, grinning when he felt her melt against him for it. Heather added a hint of teeth along the line of his shoulder and nipped at his mouth, loving the way it made him hold her more tightly. It felt like she could spend hours mapping out the expanse of his skin and just kissing him, lazily entangling their legs, arousal a low satisfied hum underneath her skin.
