Page 60 of Crew

When he palmed me through my jeans, I groaned and rocked up into his hand. “Did you miss this dick too?” I teased him, my lips against his ear.

He chuckled, fingers already working my fly. “Missed all of you.”

I lifted my hips as he shoved my jeans and boxers down together, leaving me bare beneath him. His hand wrapped around my shaft, and a ragged breath tore from my throat as he stroked me tightly.

“Thought about this. Every damn day,” he admitted against my neck.

“Yeah?” I hooked my fingers under his waistband, tugging the button free.

He pushed up enough to kick off his jeans. When he pressed against me again, his erection brushed mine, both of us hard and leaking, and we slid against each other easily.

I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him again—harder, deeper—until I couldn’t breathe. Then I broke away and reached blindly for the nightstand. Once I got a hand on it, I yanked the drawer open until I found the lube and tossed it onto the bed between us.

“You sure you want me to top?” he asked.

I stared up at him without hesitation. “Yeah. I need you inside me.”

Hunger and possession darkened in his eyes but he didn’t say anything else. Didn’t need to.

He grabbed the lube and coated his palm, stroking his length with slow, steady pulls while watching me like he was already inside my head.

I slid my hand down too, jerking myself to match.

“Fuck, look at you,” he breathed out, pumping his cock. “I love watching you touch yourself.”

I wrapped my hand tighter around my shaft, matching his rhythm, our eyes locked. “Couldn’t stop if I tried.”

“But don’t come yet,” he rasped. “I wanna feel you break when I’m inside you.”

I gritted my teeth, dragging my fist over the flushed head, the tease almost painful.

“Then get inside me already.”

He coated his fingers again and I spread my legs wider. He worked my hole, his fingertips gliding over the tight ring before easing one inside. I groaned low as my hips rolled into the burn.

“Fuck,” I gasped. “More.”

He worked a second digit in, stretching me open with practiced, deliberate precision. I clenched around him, the hot glide making my thighs shake.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered, circling my rim before sinking deeper.

Panting, I clutched the sheets as I watched him rub more lube over his shaft and line it up against my hole.

He pushed in, the blunt head forcing me open and dragging a ragged sound from my throat. He didn’t rush. He made sure I felt every thick inch as he buried himself inside me.

“Jesus,” I rasped. “You feel so fucking good.”

He grunted, and when he was as deep as he could go, he paused, giving me time to breathe.

We stayed like that, staring at each other until his hand slid to my jaw, and he ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

“I tried to move on,” he muttered. “Tried to forget how you felt, but couldn’t.”

My chest tightened so hard it hurt. “I didn’t want to either,” I admitted. “I still love you. I always have.”

“I still love you too,” he replied. “Doesn’t matter where we are: you’re still mine.”

I hooked my legs around his waist, holding him inside me, refusing to let the world take this away from us again. “Yours,” I breathed. “Always.”