The first time had been all about passion and tensions exploding in an instant like lighting a match and watching the spark as it came to life. The second time had been slow and calm and all about touching and feeling and skin being close. This time was all about pleasure and Hanna had been ecstatic that they were finally at that point.
“You’re already wet for me,” he whispered into her ear with his hand down the front of her pants and underwear, fingers playing with the velvet heat he found there.
Her hips moved toward him of their own accord, bucking towards his fingers which just never seemed to move quite fast enough to where she needed them to be. This was the part where they became comfortable with teasing each other, coaxing pleads for release out of each other.
This was the fun type of fucking that Hanna didn’t realize she missed so much. She hadn’t had this since her last serious relationship years ago and now she got to watch Roarke’s eyes dance with glee as he got noises out of her that no one had ever heard before.
“You knew that,” she whispered back, biting her bottom lip and pumping her hips against him.
“I love it,” he said, biting at her neck and pulling on the skin there, sure to leave a hickey.
He kept his pace a little bit longer until it built and built and she released, calm, and quiet, but no less good, a smile painted across her face as he pulled his hands out and worked to get his own clothes off.
“Your turn,” she whispered as she straddled his lap and took him into her hand, pumping him. He sank back into the bed and seemed to melt like butter at her touch, letting out a deep, guttural sigh. His hips moved slightly, meeting her thrusts but she was careful not to go too hard too fast. She only needed him hard and wasn’t about to wait for him to recharge if he blew his load a little too early.
He was so relaxed she was almost loath to remove her hand and move on to their next order of business but the harder he got, the wetter she became. She knew, too intimately, what he felt like inside her. She wanted it again. So she kept moving, kept her hand pumping, watching his eyes glaze over and his always so sure face turn to something else entirely. She was the only one who ever got to see this side of him, who got to see the man who crumpled beneath her fingertips, under her own eyes. It was about more than just pleasure, it was about how well they knew each other and how others wouldn’t.
“You keep going like that and this might be a really short experience,” he laughed but she could hear the edge on his voice. He was close, though he wouldn’t admit it in so many words.
She backed away, removing her hand. He whimpered, just a bit, though she knew he would deny that later. She smirked at him as she backed up and stared at him with smoldering eyes. She slowly began peeling her shirt off her body, making a show of moving her stomach, her chest, trying to shimmy the tight piece of clothing free. She knew the light favored the contours of her body, showing of the shadows and cuts of her muscles. When she met his eyes again, shirt gone, she saw him very nearly salivating at her. She slowly brought her hands to the front clasp of her bra and popped it open, letting it fall and letting her breasts hit the cool air of the room, nipples hardening on contact with the draft.
She watched his hands itch near his erection, desperate to touch but he knew the consequences of that. He needed to calm down, but she was going to make that as difficult for him as possible.
Next were the pants. They were already undone. She simply hooked her thumbs in the waistband and pushed down, shimming again to get the jeans loose from her skin. She felt goosebumps hit her skin as the drafty air hit her there too. She was far too sensitive for any of this. She’d never imagined a crappy storage dungeon as a place she would find the best orgasms of her life, but she couldn’t exactly deny the chemical energy she was feeling here and wasn’t going to complain.
Underwear was next, peeled off in much the same as the pants and then there she stood, naked and shivering slightly in front of him. His eyes seemed ready to bug right out of his head, he was sweating, even from where she stood she could see a bead making its way down his face and disappearing behind the shirt on his chest. His breathing was a tidal wave, his chest rising and falling like the moon itself was pulling on it and releasing it for a second before taking it back again.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Beyond ready,” he husked out.
She stepped toward him, straddling his lap, pulling his pants down just far enough to get a good vantage point over him. She lifted herself up, her quad muscles flexing there. She lowered herself onto him and they moaned together as her hips became flush to his. She waited there, just for a second, feeling him inside her, touching parts of her that hadn’t been touched in so long, and never with that much intensity or emotion.
“Ready when you are, sweetheart,” he whispered into her ear, gently kissing her cheek.
She began to move up and down, to bounce with smooth grace, letting her insides run along the surface of him. He met her movements almost immediately. They moved together, riding the tidal waves as they moved towards a crescendo. Their moans were out of sync but their hips were flush together at nearly every turn.
He came first. It was usually the case. But he didn’t stop once he’d drained himself, his fingers coming down to play with her sensitive flesh between them until she was spasming on top of him. No man had cared enough to make her come after he was done. It had always been a case for her own fingers or pulling out a vibrator in the bathroom. But here he was, pushing her towards ecstasy while he was still inside her. The father of her child.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, breathless, against her neck.
“So are you,” she said and meant it.