Gabe loved foreplay. Learning every inch of someone’s body, losing himself in their kisses, hearing the sounds they made as they came. He desperately wanted to do those things with Michelle.
Not only that, he was big. He wanted to make sure she was ready to take him.
When she rubbed her pussy along his cock, he groaned, fighting for control. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mich.”
She leaned down, her breasts a warm, heavy weight on his chest. “You won’t.”
Just to be sure, Gabe reached between them to check for himself, finding her hot and slick with desire.
Before he could explore further, she sank onto him, her core enveloping his cock inch by inch. They worked together—Michelle angling her pelvis, Gabe holding her hips to keep her steady—until he was fully sheathed inside her. Michelle let out a long sigh, like she’d been holding her breath, and Gabe flexed his fingers on her round ass, trying not to move.
“Fuck,” they said in unison, then laughed. Something between them lightened in that moment, despite the vibrating tension in his body and hers. They’d always laughed easily together.
Michelle pressed her face into his neck, but his mouth found hers and he kissed her long and slow, one hand skimming lazily up and down her back, the other sliding into her hair, massaging gently.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered against her lips, holding her close. “I’ve got you.”
She propped herself up with her hands on his shoulders, leaning away from him. He couldn’t read her expression, but then the corner of her mouth curved in a smirk he’d seen a million times before.
“You ready?” she murmured with a devilish lilt.
“Fuck yeah.” The words rasped like sandpaper, pulled from the deepest part of him, where he’d locked away all his feelings for this woman. He’d dreamed about this moment, and his imagination had nothing on the reality. The feel of her clenched around him, her thighs clamped tight on his hips, her hand exploring the contours of his muscles—he couldn’t hold back another second.
He slammed his hips up into her and she gasped, her head falling back, fingernails digging into his biceps. When he paused, thinking he’d hurt her, she smiled dreamily.
“I’m okay. You just surprised me.”
He slid his hands up to cup her breasts, letting her control the rhythm. “Move on me, mami.”
She rolled her eyes. “Dude, you did not just call me mami.”
He let out a chuckle that turned into a moan when she rocked on him. “You can take the boy outta the Bronx . . .”
She pursed her lips, as if holding back a smile. “Shut up. Papi chulo.”
And then she started to move, setting the pace, taking him slow but deep. Her breasts swayed in front of his face, and he raised his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, dragging his tongue over it. He ran his thumb over her other nipple, relishing the feel of her softness filling his hand, her warm skin against his lips and tongue.
She dug her nails into his arms again, the tiny pinpricks anchoring his body as waves of pleasure threatened to carry him away.
“Fuck.” Gabe slammed his head back against the pillow. His hands fisted in the bedding. This was nothing like how he’d imagined this morning going and, right now, he didn’t fucking care. He didn’t care about anything except the feel of her body moving over his.
“Michelle.” His voice was hoarse with need. He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand, he worked his thumb between them, groaning when he found her clitoris. She moaned against his mouth, her movements becoming less fluid, more erratic.
She buried her face in his neck but he gently cupped the back of her head. “Look at me, baby,” he murmured. Whether it was instinct or memory, something told him she was trying to hide. “Let me see you.”
Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded, almost reluctant. He sped up his ministrations, rubbing circles over her clit. Her lashes lowered again and he kissed her face, whispering, “Open your eyes.”
He wanted to make her come, wanted to see her as she shattered. But when she opened her eyes, he saw a flash of something that might have been fear in their honey-colored depths. Then she bit her lip as her body twitched on top of him. She was close to climax.
Gabe closed his own eyes and kissed her. As much as he wanted to watch her reaction, there was something too intimate about it. Yeah, his cock was currently buried inside her, shuttling back and forth in the wet heat of her pussy, but being eye to eye while she came? It was more vulnerability than either of them was ready for.
He kissed her through it instead, swallowing her soft cries. He held her tight as her core spasmed and her body shook with tremors of release on top of him.
And when she was done, her body draped limply across his, he gripped her hips. “Baby, I gotta—”
“Do it,” she murmured.
He flipped her over and fucked her.
It didn’t take long, just a few more strokes. He’d barely held it together while she’d come apart on his cock. With his face pressed into the curve of her neck, with her limbs wrapped around him like vines, he gave one last thrust. And came with a low groan.
Breathing harshly, he felt his pulse thundering in his ears like an oncoming 2 train rattling along the elevated track. All the strength drained from him, and with it, the impulse to run.
As his scattered thoughts returned, he was aware of every inch of his skin against hers. Her soft breasts pillowing his chest, her strong thighs hugging his waist, her hands resting on his lower back, her breath tickling his ear.
And in the back of his mind, all he could think was that they’d finally done it. They’d had sex.
As much as Gabe loved the feeling of being inside her, he was softening. He had to get rid of the condom, and Michelle probably didn’t enjoy being crushed by him.
With great effort, he rolled off her, flopping onto his back.
I just had sex with Michelle, he thought, staring at the ceiling. I just. Had sex. With Michelle.
Fuck. Now what did they do?
Michelle cleared her throat. “Did we just have angry sex?” she asked softly.
“Not angry,” he replied. “Just . . . mildly disgruntled.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Well, this is awkward.”
Gabe swallowed hard. His heart still pounded his rib cage like fists against a punching bag. “You’re right,” he rasped.
“I know.”
He shook his head. “No, I mean . . . we do have unresolved . . .”
“Issues?” she suggested. “Baggage? Tension?”
“All of that.” He turned to look into her eyes, and his heart flip-flopped in his chest. How was it possible to feel utterly satisfied but also terrified about what was to come? “I owe it to you to stay here and work this out.”
Her expression softened and she looked away to gaze up at the ceiling. “For how long?”
“Until I leave on Friday.” He didn’t know if she meant staying or screwing, but either way, Friday was the end.
She nodded, still not looking at him. After a moment, she asked, “What are we doing here, Gabe?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t regret it.” Sex had unlocked something between them. Or maybe that kiss all those years ago had turned the key, and now they were finally opening the door to see what was inside.