We walked through the apartment in silence. Vaughn paused on the other side of the couch and I led him to my room. I didn’t worry about the boxes or the piles of clothes. I locked the door in place.

I swiveled on my heels at the foot of the bed as his hand wrapped around my neck, dragging my lips to his. I surrendered to the kiss as he stripped the tank top over my head. I reached for the buttons on his crisp shirt, but he pushed my hands out of the way, discarding his clothes faster than I could have.

Our bodies aligned. Skin touching skin. Hands groping and mouths sucking and licking.

My back fell on the bed as he crawled toward me. I could taste my arousal on his lips and it was erotic. I kissed him harder.

I didn’t have sex with men like Vaughn. Men who were confident and sexy with just a smile or a look. Men who knew how to use their hands to draw pleasure from my body. Men who kissed me like they owned me.

His hands tangled in my hair as he breathed over my lips. I searched the darkness for his mouth. His body rubbed against mine. His chest pressing into my breasts until my nipples were peaked and tender.

I groaned when I felt his erection slide between my legs. There was no question what we both wanted. What we needed.

I tilted my hips upward and I felt the thick ridge of his cock planted at my entrance.

My heart beat rapidly. My chest tingled. I burned with a kind of want between my legs that made me whimper before he even pushed inside me.

His mouth left mine and made a trail to my breast. I inhaled sharply as he tugged and toyed with my nipple.

“Ohh,” I cried.

He moved to the other side, pinching and twisting the nub until I bucked from the intensity. All the while, his cock was stretching and burning my entrance with pressure. I tried to rock forward and back, desperate to suck him deep inside me, but he demonstrated how strong he was. How much he controlled me. How the timing was all his.

He pulled my nipple between his teeth in a slow tugging torture. Just before he released the tip from his teeth he thrust the rest of his length inside me, searing our bodies together.

“Fuck,” he growled into my ear as he began to find a rhythm.

“Oh God.” I clawed his back, blinded by his fullness. Lost in how good it felt when he pushed inside me. How empty I felt when he pulled out.

It was as if he had turned on some kind of switch that was planted in my core. My body moved in ways it never had. I wanted him to know I enjoyed it. I wanted him to hear me. To feel me. To see me.

The first time with a man, I was always shy and reserved. I held back. I made just enough noise or pretended to come at least once. I didn’t let him see my body move the way it wanted to, in pleasure, in response.

Those reservations didn’t exist tonight. Vaughn brought out a hunger in me that I’d wanted to feed. I squeezed his cock with vise-like pressure as he slid in and out of me. My hips rocked. My hands trailed from his body to mine. My mouth caressed him in kisses. It was as if an explosion of sensation was passing back and forth between us.

I gasped for breath when I felt his fingers thread through mine and the wild thrusts slowed. I looked into his eyes.

He pressed his lips to mine, pumping with a slow hard thrust until my lips parted with a sigh.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered.

I didn’t have words. I didn’t have a way to say to him that something was happening as our sweat dripped between us and the friction of our skin created heat. That I let him in faster than I had any other man. That I never slept with someone so quickly. That in this moment I thought I was connected to him more than any person.

He hilted himself inside me and I whimpered, tilting my lips toward him.

It was pleasure mixed with douses of pain. Wickedness sewn with gratification. Sex and sin. Lust and want I wanted to be love.

My breaths quickened. I was about to come again. Harder and slower than my body had every experienced.

“Fuck me,” I whispered as the pulses detonated in my core.

Vaughn pushed inside me, pinning me to the bed. I writhed and jerked.

“Oh God,” I cried.

He kissed my neck and throat. “Feel it,” he demanded. “How fucking good it feels like this.”

Locked under his body I had nowhere to go but through the pleasure. To let my body absorb what he could do to me. The bliss coursed through me and I sighed with complete satisfaction.

I’d never let an orgasm’s impact soak through me before. I’d always wiggled and shaken it off as if it had to happen quickly. But not this time. I reveled in it. Each wave. Each jolt.

My body felt warm and soothed, yet alive with energy.

Maybe Vaughn sensed what he had awakened in me. Or maybe he wanted to see how far he could push me. He rolled to his back, bringing me on top of him.

His hands traced the outline of my breasts, stopping to squeeze my nipples. My hands met his and I covered his hands with my palms. I felt him thrust inside me and the rocking took over. My clit needed the friction. Every time my hips moved, it brought me closer to another orgasm.

His hands fell away, gripping my waist with authority as he roughly moved me up and down over his cock.

I bounced wildly and passionately, rubbing my nipples, leaning backward toward the ceiling.

“Don’t stop fucking me like this,” he ordered. His voice ragged and deep.

The farther I leaned back, the deeper he hit my walls, until I was convulsing and vibrating in an uncontrollable way.

I slammed forward on his chest.

“Shit,” he hissed. His hands splayed firmly on my back and I felt his body seize with tension and then he growled quietly against my neck.

His head collapsed onto the mattress and he exhaled.

“Fuck.”

I tried to catch my breath while he drew lazy circles on my back. I extended one leg and then the other as he slid out of me. There was a sudden stickiness between my thighs.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want what we experienced to be over. Somehow moving might change it. The moment would pass, or we would get distracted by everything outside of our sex bubble. Because that’s what it was—a bubble of sex. Where nothing else mattered but what we did to each other.

I was afraid to talk. I wanted the moment to last—at least until the sun came up.