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Very calmly, his hand comes to circle mine. He rolls his boxers over his thick length and tucks it back into his jeans. He leaves them open, which drives me half mad. I want the heavy weight of him in my palm again, hot steel painting my artist hands with his precum.

Fine. If he’s not going to let me touch him, I’m just going to make sure that he touches me.

He’s already ahead of me, dragging down my leggings with such brute force that I’m shocked they survive. They’re just thin black cotton. I’m not wearing any panties underneath. They’re more like pajamas for me.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

I help him by getting my arms underneath me at just the right angle to wriggle out of my t-shirt. I wasn’t going to leave the house in it, so I didn’t bother with a bra.

My breasts spill out. His mouth falls open, just so he can noisily suck in air.

I’m half afraid that I’ve killed him when he freezes, that he’s had a silent heart attack, but then he wraps one rough palm around my breast, fingers working my nipple into a hard point that he claims with his mouth.

He kisses it hard, rubbing his jaw over my chest. I thought he was freshly shaved, but the burn proves otherwise.

I arch up to meet him, offering him my hard nipples like an offering.

He doesn’t disappoint, fitting the first one between his teeth and tugging until I gasp.

Then kissing messy, hot kisses across to the other.

He’s not gentle, but he doesn’t cause me real pain either.

It’s more than enough to get me writhing beneath him.

I have zero clothes on and he has far too many, but it’s clear that he’s intent on making me forget.

Everything.

The world, the past, the future, my own name.

He hooks his arms around my thighs, spreading me open for him.

There’s nothing to hide how wet I am, He smooths his huge hands down my thighs, his rough skin an erotic contrast with the smooth.

He nestles there, fitting himself inside my open legs like that space was made just for him.

There’s no tease, no lead up. Just his strong, sure fingers parting me so he can have his fill.

He drags his tongue up my center, making his way to my clit.

It’s like he’s known my body for years. He touches me exactly the way I want him to.

He smooths back the hood gently, but there’s nothing merciful about the way he sucks my already swollen clit, working his tongue over it in torturous lashes.

He says nothing, but the sounds he makes as he eats me with zero shame about making a meal of me is hotter than any words. I don’t need dirty talk. Just his tongue doing filthy things to me.

“God, you’re good,” I pant as he parts my folds, traces me all the way down to my entrance, and plunges his tongue inside.

“It’s easy when you’re so fucking sweet.”

He scoops his hands under my ass and hoists me up to his face, devouring me like his whole purpose in life is to make me come.

I dig my hands into anything I can find. The laminate flooring, his hair, his shoulders, my discarded clothing, all while he keeps me locked in the air. It’s the reverse of being pinned down, but the result is the same. I fight against him, all while struggling to get closer.

He’s a master at drawing out my pleasure, but I’m strong too. Not only is this no problem for my abs, but I can work myself in his hands, rocking and swaying to get him closer to setting me off. He finally takes mercy on me, letting me grasp his hair and drag him back to my clit.

Just a few seconds of his attention focused there sends me spiraling.

I expect it to be a warmup climax, no big deal, something that I can handle just fine, but the pleasure blindsides me.

My hands tighten in his hair, my fingers digging into his face as I keep him pinned in that exact spot, doing what he’s doing, circling my clit and jamming it with his tongue.

The pulsing pleasure doesn’t stop. It builds and builds, peaking and crashing.

Dravin isn’t about to give me a break. He takes me every step of the way, until I’m sweating, sobbing, begging.

I didn’t even know it was possible to reach a crest like that and just have the good parts keep coming for longer than a few seconds.

Every time I’ve given myself an orgasm the lead up is good once I’m warmed up, but the real pleasure only ever lasts for five or maybe ten seconds.

This is going on for so long that it’s going to kill me.

Another ten seconds and I can’t take it anymore. I have to move my hands to the top of his head and shove him away, scooting with my feet planted in the floor so that he doesn’t cause my soul to tear out of my body.

As soon as I evade the torture and start to come down from that incredible high, I wish I hadn’t.

How is it possible to want more after the orgasm to end all orgasms?

I guess it’s more as in, more for Dravin.

He’s still clothed, probably so hard that he’s aching.

It’s more for me too. I don’t just want the orgasms. I want the closeness.

The intimacy. It’s pretty intimate trusting someone else with your body, but I want to trust him all the way.

I sit halfway up and try to unzip his jeans. He doesn’t push my hand away, but he does cover it. “If we do this, there’s no return.”

“Whoa.” I squeeze his cock playfully, sticking the tip of my tongue out at him. “This isn’t like endgame level dicking. Daddy Dray. I’ve seen your cock. It’s impressive, but you’re not going to destroy me or anything.”

He chokes on his own saliva, coughing roughly. He covers his mouth and keeps his hand there half incredulous and half pissed off, and never so adorable.

“I know what you really mean. Once we’ve slept together, we can’t go back and pretend it didn’t happen.

I’m okay with that. Anyway, I think we’re past that point.

” He’s still kneeling and I’m half sitting up.

I arrange my legs around him, scooting close.

This time, he lets me slide his zipper down. “I don’t want to go back.”

He mutters something that sounds like, “now.”

“Yes now, but that’s all we have. If you’re worried about next week, or next month, or next year, I am too, but not about this.

The only promise I can make is that I’m not the type that gets bitter if things don’t work out.

” That was the past. The needles that rush in and press all over my chest tell me that already, this means more to me than any other relationship I’ve ever been involved in.

“You don’t have to promise that. You can just tell me that you’ll try and turn it into a work of art. Even if it’s a work of hate.”

“Good lord. Let’s hope it never comes to that. I’m all for dark art, but I’d prefer to create something with a little light mixed in.”

I work the button of his jeans open and push them down along with his boxers, until they’re riding so low that there’s just about nothing left to the imagination. I’d love to paint him like this, but it would be something that never saw the light of day. Something just for us.

“You’re driving me crazy looking at me like that.”

“Or just stopping?”

I tug everything down, freeing his cock and the hard boulders of his ass.

He has the best ass. As I thought, he’s so hard and swollen that he’s almost purple at the tip, pulsing before I even get my hand around him.

When I close my fist at the base of him, his head falls back and he drags in a shuddering sigh.

Precum drips over my fist. Seeing how aroused he is and knowing how badly he wants me makes my walls clench in on themselves and my belly flutter and cramp with need.

I jack my hand down his length a few times, staring right up into his face as I do it. I’m not trying to be seductive. There’s no seducing needed. I just want to watch the shadows and sunlight play over his face.

He gets his hand up under my ass and positions us so he’s supporting his weight over me. I spread my legs wider, wrapping them around him. It’s more awkward that he’s trapped in clothes, but neither of us wants to stop and shed them.

He presses two fingers against my entrance, ready to warm me up, but I shake my head, thrashing it from side to side on the floor.

“No. I just want to feel you. All of you. Now.”

He lets me be bossy, flattening his hand out beneath me again and jerking my hips up.

I support myself like that, grasping his shoulders and bracing myself as he notches his cock at my entrance.

He teases me a little, rubbing his head along my clit and down, as if I’m not already panting and soaked and so beyond needing him.

I mean to tell him to hurry the hell up, but all I can do is whimper and rock against him. I tug his face to mine. “Fuck, this might not be the perfect circumstances, but you’re perfect, Dravin.”

“Stop,” he groans against my lips.

“Stop telling you how amazing you are? How hot? How sexy it is that you’re ridiculously smart and jacked and a little bit scary, but mostly just super sweet underneath all of that?

Not a chance. Make it so we can’t go back.

I’m ready.” Then, because he still doesn’t move, I ask nicely.

“Fucking right the fuck now.” I’ve never been into begging.

The only please he’s going to hear coming from me is in the context of please fuck me harder.

I wrap my legs around his hips and shift my hands down to his waist, digging my nails in. He grunts against my mouth, slamming his lips over mine, kissing my cry of pleasure straight back into my mouth as he thrusts inside.

He’s gentle and not gentle, controlled and uncontrolled. He holds himself back just enough to make sure that I’m beyond ready for this and when he knows that I am, he fills me full.