“Back again,” he panted. I started lower this time, trying to make sure I didn’t actually hurt him. His hand went down my side, slipping under my shorts before he dipped his fingers into me.
“Based on how wet you are, I would say I’m right. I tell you I want you to be rough, that I don’t like fucking anyone, that I would happily die at your hands, and you’re so wet your shorts are soaked.”
“Maybe I would be like that no matter what you said. Maybe I’m just attracted to you.”
He fell to my side, his hands tracing small circles on my arm.
“I think I’d like to have sex now,” he said in a monotone voice, playing innocent. “It could be fun. Don’t hurt me, though. No teeth, no nails. Don’t go too fast or hard. Just carefully get it done and over with.”
“Done and over with? How sexy,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah, and if we could keep touching to a minimum, that would be great.”
“You’re very good at proving your point. Is that the speech you give all the girls?”
“Just the last part,” he said with a shameless smirk. “Now, which version do you want?”
I pushed at him and he rolled back over top of me. “You know exactly what I want,” I said.
“You want me obsessed with you, drowning in you, clawing at my own skin to get you closer, and I am. Can we do something?” he asked, nuzzling into my neck.
“Something like sex or something like going out for a drive?”
He flipped, rolling me with him until I was on top of him.
“The sex part. For now, at least. I want you on top, riding me.”
“Oh. Why wouldn’t we do that?”
“I never have,” he said, running his hands up my side and pulling my shirt off.
“Excuse me? You’ve never had someone on top for sex?”
“Okay. Technically, I did try it once for maybe five seconds, and I couldn’t stand it, so it was short-lived and hasn’t happened since.”
“Why couldn’t you stand it?” I asked, moving to pull off my shorts.
“There is a level of control with sex that I like to have. A level that I could always stop when I needed to if I was in control of the situation.”
“Did you stop during sex all the time?”
“All the time? You make it sound like I’ve tried this more than twice. But yes, I wasn’t exactly smooth about things and stopped more than once each time. When I kept the control, it was easier to push through the pain of touching.”
“Then why have me be rough with you? Wouldn’t that make it worse?”
“Apparently not. I trust you, Daze. I don’t think you would actually hurt me and giving you that control makes me somehow feel in control. I can control when you’re rough with me, and I know if I tell you to stop, you will. My body isn’t in control. I am. I’ve never had that, and no one has ever made me feel like you do enough to give them any control. I had to force myself through it, and now I want your filthy mouth telling me everything you are going to do to me. I want you clawing for me, tearing me apart to get off.”
“With the way you have always been fine with me touching you, it’s still hard to believe.” I crawled back over him, grabbing his cock and positioning it at my entrance.
“You are different.”
“I don’t know how,” I said.
“A thousand ways.”
“But you want this?”
“More than anything,” he breathed.
I sank down, moaning as he filled me. Somehow, the sensation got better each time. I stilled, making sure he was fine, before starting to run my nails lightly over him.
Down his jaw, to his neck, to his chest and down his stomach before going back up.
“Do you feel out of control?”
“Yes,” he said, pushing his hips up, taking me with them. “The good kind. Keep going.”
He closed his eyes, his hands on my hips as I moved. I kept a slow pace, needing him to be okay and not rush through it.
“Wait, stop,” he said, his chest rising and falling faster.
I froze, my heart stopping as I realized he could be stopping this. I didn’t know if I could handle the rejection of him stopping midway through something so deeply close and passionate.
“Are you okay?”
“More than okay,” he said through deep breaths.
I splayed my hands out over his chest. “Does that mean I don’t have to stop?”
