TWENTY-ONE Sebastian
My rationality is obliterated.
I’m in a trance when I move, taking off my shorts and briefs and riffling through my wallet for the single foil packet I stowed away before I decided to shoot my shot. I was a hopeful idiot who’s now getting his wish, and I need to make sure I do this right.
I toss the condom on the couch cushions and wrap my hand around my cock, stroking myself. I’ve been hard from the second she took her shirt off, pathetically leaking pre-cum in my briefs without any semblance of self-control. I’m convinced I don’t have any when it comes to her.
It’s not going to take much for me to finish.
I almost got there when I had my head between her legs, the friction from grinding against the couch and the noises she was making enough to tip me over the edge.
I held back, restraining myself as much as I could, because I knew for as good as that felt, sinking into her is going to be even more exquisite.
“How do you like it?” I ask.
“I don’t want us to change who we are just because we’re sleeping together. With you, I think I’d like it rough.” Her eyes gleam, cheeks slightly pink. They match last night’s sunset, and I blow out a breath. “I want you to fuck me like you hate me.”
Desire coils at the base of my spine. I don’t hate her, but I want that too. I walk toward her and put the condom between my teeth. I straddle her, palms flat on the cushions, eager when her breathing shifts to the wisp of uncontrolled. She’s like me, hanging on by a thread.
“What else?” I ask.
“If this is good …” Quincy’s back lifts off the cushions, her fingers slipping back inside herself. She’s unabashed, desperate, and watching her is like a drug. A scene in a movie I can’t look away from. “We’ll do it again. Anywhere you want. Maybe that will be some extra motivation for you.”
“Motivation.” I dip my chin, kissing her throat. She sighs, a sweet and steady exhale. “I don’t need motivation. Watching you fuck yourself is all I need.”
“Yeah? Then ask for it nicely.”
I drop my head back and groan. I’ve been waiting for this, and I’m ready. A willing participant at the mercy of his queen.
“Please.” I rest my forehead against hers. Every movement is labored. Every breath is ragged. “Please let me have you. Please let me fuck you. I’ll be good for the rest of my life if I can have this one thing, Quincy.”
“Wow.” Her nose brushes against mine. She puts a hand on the back of my neck, drawing me close so she can kiss me, rough and quick. “I liked hearing that. Let’s see how good you are, weather boy.”
I rip open the condom and sit back on my heels, careful as I roll it down my length.
I’ve never done a single thing in my life slow, but with her, I know I have to.
I don’t stand a chance at surviving if I move too fast.
I run my hand up her calf, over her knee. All the way up to her waist where I nudge her hips apart, needing the space. Quincy moves without a word, long legs in the perfect spot and everything about her beautiful.
“You’ll talk to me? If something doesn’t—”
She touches her fingers to my wrist, guiding my hand to my length. I haven’t been in control at all during this, but I don’t care. “I promise.”
I nod and line myself up with her entrance, a hand pressing on her stomach and the other hooking under her knee.
She watches me, the faintest hint of discomfort in her eyes when I push the head of my cock inside her.
It doesn’t linger, gone when she blinks and replaced with a burst of lust. Our groans come out in tandem, a soft laugh following hers.
“Okay?” I ask, voice thick. My skin burns hot, my vision blurry. I wait for her nod before I move again. “Should I—”
Quincy wraps her leg around my hip. I rock forward, the first part of my cock disappearing in her. I’m dizzy already, trying to focus and stay calm, but I can’t. I can’t because she’s warm and she’s tight and she’s lifting her hips to meet me halfway.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “That’s—”
“You take me so well. Deep breath, Quinny baby.” I thrust into her, and she gasps. “That’s good. Right there.”
The room splinters around me. I lose myself in the roll of her hips and the bite of her nails.
There’s a quiet laugh. A whimper followed by a groan.
When I bury myself inside her, all the way to the hilt, she looks down at where we’re joined, mouth hinged open.
Sweat rolls down her chest between her tits, and I have to actively grip her knee to keep myself from licking it away.
“Harder,” she says.
It’s an order and a plea wrapped in one, and I’m not going to deny her what she wants.
My movements turn wild, a version of myself I didn’t know existed when I draw her knees to her chest and lean against her, my weight preventing her from going anywhere.
She’s pinned beneath me, and when I touch her cheek, the silent wonder in her eyes makes me snap my hips with reckless abandonment.
We fit together perfectly, just like I knew we would.
“Do you like that?” I reach between us, my thumb on her clit. “Can you take more?”
“Yes.” The word wavers when she drops her head back and runs her hands over her chest. “I can take anything you give me.”
I test her theory, slamming into her without any delicacy. Her moan is loud, downright filthy, and I hold her there. Each thrust brings us close together until I don’t know where I end and she begins.
Her eyes are half closed, skin slick with sweat and hair a tangled mess.
I must be doing something right, following her orders well enough for her legs to shake.
She squirms, my name turning into a chant as she tightens around me.
I touch her, the skin at her waist my anchor while I move, greedy when she lets out a sharp cry that tells me she’s falling apart.
Three more rocks of my hips are all it takes to join her over the edge, her sated smile a magnificent thing to see when I come. I struggle to keep myself upright, fatigue settling in. I’m panting, groaning when she brings her thighs together, squeezing me in place so I don’t slip out.
I’m going to need five to seven business days to recover. A whole gallon of electrolytes and an EKG to make sure my heart is okay. I’m afraid it isn’t. She sits up and I pull out of her reluctantly, sure I need a stretcher.
“Fuck.” I collapse over the back of the couch, chest heaving. “I think I’m dead. Hello from the afterlife.”
“You wouldn’t leave me that easily.” Quincy’s hand is on my back, rubbing circles between my shoulder blades while I try to calm down. “And I wouldn’t want you to.”
I look at her over my shoulder, smugness surging through me at the sight of her swollen lips. There are bite marks all over her body and a burn mark on her thigh from the scruff on my jaw, and she’s never been more beautiful.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’d find a way to bother you endlessly.”
“I knew it.” She yawns. “That was …”
“I swear to god if you say good, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Fine.” She giggles, orgasm drunk and sex fueled. “It was great.”
“Next time I’m going to make sure it’s damn near perfect.”
I muster up all the strength I have and stand, taking off the used condom. I feel bad dropping it in the trash can under her desk, the office obviously her sacred spot, but she doesn’t protest.
She also doesn’t protest when I lift her in my arms. I carry her down the hall until we reach her room.
“What are we doing?” She rests her head on my chest. “Round two?”
“I have exactly zero brain cells left after that. Round two is going to have to wait. I figured a nap sounds good. Is it okay if I stay for a while?” I set her on the mattress, pulling back the covers so she can climb under the sheets and light blue comforter. “Or do you want me to leave?”
“Stay.” She pats the spot next to her, and I don’t need to be told twice.
I slip under the sheet, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her tight to my chest. Her breathing evens out, and she spins in my hold so we’re facing each other.
“I should shower and clean up, but it sounds like so much work.”
“We’ll rest for a minute then do all that.”
“Do you snore in your sleep?”
“I haven’t been told that I do, but who knows? Do you snore, Pres?”
“No, but I’ve been known to steal the covers. At least that’s what your sister tells me.” Quincy reaches for my necklace, giving it a tug. “You better prepare yourself, Dunn.”
“Pretty sure I’m significantly stronger than my five-foot-two sibling.” I bury my face in her hair, trying to figure out why all this feels so easy. “Doing okay?”
“You sent me to space and back. I’m doing more than okay, and I hate that telling you that is only going to make your ego even bigger.”
“The truth comes out.” I stretch out my leg, a cramp starting in my calf. “This is the time when you tell me your deepest, darkest secret, Monroe.”
“I don’t have any secrets.” She closes her eyes, burrowing into my embrace. I rub my hand down her arm and she sighs. “I’m pretty boring.”
“No family drama? No ex-husband in Italy?”
“Definitely not. I mean, I don’t talk to my parents very much. They’ve never liked the career path I picked, but I wouldn’t call that drama.”
“Why don’t they like it?” I play with the ends of her hair and brush a few pieces away from her face. For as long as I’ve known her, she’s never offered up this much information about her personal life, and I want to hear more. “Do they think it’s dangerous?”
“More like they don’t think it’s a real job.
Every time we talk, they ask when I’m going to do something that has a purpose.
They were both professors. Academia is their calling, and making videos about sunrises and high tides isn’t what they would consider being successful.
” She stops to laugh. “It’s fine. I don’t need their validation. ”
“Have you told them about your award from the American Meteorological Society for that paper you published?”
“You remember that?” Quincy sits up. “That was years ago.”
“Good memory.” I tap my forehead. “It was a big deal.”