Page 51 of A Matter of Time

And I was going to tease him, but the moment was precious, even if there would only ever be this one. “I know.”

“How did you know? Was it bad?”

“No.”

“I wanted it to be.”

“But it wasn’t.” I’d made sure.

“No.”

Long silence.

“Do you never come from being fucked?”

“I normally do, but the touching before, the⁠—”

“Foreplay?”

I thought for a moment. “Sort of. Similar. The more you loosen the muscles, the easier the entry, the better it will be.”

“Makes sense.”

Hard to know what he was thinking. I was going to suggest that he could go, that he didn’t owe me anything, certainly not any more of his time.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know it would be like that.”

“Like what?”

He ignored my question. “We were good, right?” Like he needed his own assurance.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“But it can be better for you.”

“And for you,” I assured him.

He cleared his throat before he pressed his hand against the small of my back. “Do you… Do guys… Can you make it so you’re on your back?”

“Yes.” I exhaled slowly. “I just thought maybe you wanted it so you couldn’t see my face.”

“No. If we could—when you can—I… When you’re ready, I’d like to see.”

Jesus. Just him saying it, wanting to look at me, look into my eyes, sent a hard throb of arousal rolling through me. And yes, always. I loved sex, loved to bottom, loved to be pounded and filled, but normally I sent men away when we were done. Once was enough. I was ready to shower and sleep after. Over and over? That wasn’t me.

But this man…this man I wanted to stay right where he was.

“Roll to your back.”

He did what I told him without question and then retrieved the bottle of lube from the tousled bed, the sheets and blanket already in disarray, before I could say a word. He passed it to me, then watched as I straddled his hips. When I took his already hardening cock in hand, stroking him languorously, he hissed out a breath.

I didn’t ask for permission, I just leaned close, and when my mouth was hovering over his, only then was I unsure, waiting, his hand lifted to my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips, once and then again.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted this,” he rumbled, staring up at me.

It was strange, but there were crazy boundaries that sometimes couldn’t be crossed. Like kissing during the act, in the heat of passion, that was allowed, but afterward, that was too intimate. The whimper that came out of the back of my throat was all want.

“Good,” he whispered, and eased me down for an openmouthed kiss that I sank into.