January Week 2: Friday Evening with Jonathan...Leah Stops him--insists on him being inside her.

“Wait, babe, please—I need you inside me, right now. I can’t wait. I want you so bad I can’t even think straight—fuck me, Jonathan. Please.” She squeezed her thighs together, frantic.

She heard the edge in her own voice, the ****, hoarse, almost whorish plea, and wondered how obvious she sounded. Maybe he’d sense something off, maybe he’d pause, maybe he’d look her in the eye and see the filth flickering behind the blue irises he loved so goddamn much.

But Jonathan—God bless his horny, eager soul—just froze for an instant, mouth slightly agape, as if the sheer **** of her need had short-circuited his synapses. Then, grinning, he crawled up her body, positioning himself between her trembling thighs, his cock pressed urgently against her heat. He didn’t question her reversal; he was too busy peeling off her skirt, tugging her panties to her knees, and burying his face in the flushed skin of her neck, sucking little bruises in the exact spots he always did.

He pressed the head of his cock against her slick entrance and groaned out loud at the easy, slippery way she took him.
“Holy shit, babe,” he muttered, “you’re fucking soaked. I must be doing something right. Gotta be the Star Trek underwear.”

He laughed. She almost laughed—a brittle, hysterical sound—but she bit it back and hooked her legs around his waist, dragging him deeper. She concentrated on him, on the familiar rhythm of his thrusts, the way he gripped her hips with hands that were calloused from hours at a keyboard but gentle, always gentle, wanting her to feel good, wanting to make her come first. Guilt twisted inside her, but something else, something wild and masochistic, made her grind back against him, welcoming the friction, the sensation, the honesty of it.

He was panting, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, kissing down her sternum, his breath hot and wine-sweet. She wriggled her hips, encouraging him, speeding his tempo, determined to chase the orgasm that eluded her.

He sped up, muttering her name, and she felt him shudder inside her, cock pulsing, filling her with warmth that mingled with the residue of earlier trespasses. For a moment, she was afraid he’d notice it, the way her body had already been seeded, but Jonathan was too swept up in his own pleasure to care. He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair and murmuring.

“Fuck, Leah, you felt so good. I love you so much.”

“Yes…yes…it felt so good.” she said, reassuring him, even though she probably was more reassuring herself.

After some pillow talk about the day they cleaned up and spent a cozy evening together.