Page 149 of In Somnis

Her cunt clenches around my fingers.

The moan that comes out of her is loud and broken. Her hips stutter, and she collapses forward into me, full weight, her breasts basically smothering my face, and I think distantly, what a way to go, before I follow her straight over the edge, completely involuntarily. My balls are drawing tight, and warmth is flooding the inside of my jeans like I’m sixteen years old and have never learned a single thing about self-control.

We stay like that for a few seconds, her breathing hard into my ear and me trying to remember what century it is.

I press my lips to the top of one breast, then the other, and tug her sweater back up. “You okay?”

She leans back to look at me. Her eyes are wide and dazed, and she looks… I don’t have a word for it. Wrecked, soft, and surprised at herself. It makes me want to do it all over again.

I pull my hand free and bring my fingers to my mouth before I can think better of it. The taste of her hits my tongue, and I close my eyes.

Fuck.

I am going to lay her out on every flat surface in this house.

But that is a thought for another afternoon, apparently, because right now, she is stepping back off my lap, pulling her panties back over herself, and smoothing her skirt down over the ruins of her pantyhose, while staring at the front of my jeans.

I follow her gaze.

Well. The wet patch is impressive.

A laugh comes out of me before I can stop it, and I feel heat climb my face, which almost never happens to me. “Seems like you were able to make a mess of my jeans after all.”

“I’m sorry,” she says immediately.

I stand and take her face in both hands.

“I am not complaining.” I look at her steadily, making sure she hears it. “That was…”

“So good,” she breathes out.

I raise an eyebrow.

The corner of her mouth tugs upward, and her eyes drop. She’s shy now, after all of that, which is the single most endearing thing I have ever witnessed.

I press my lips to the beauty mark under her mouth. “I’m glad.”

She’s quiet, and I can see it happening—the warmth retreating incrementally, the self-consciousness moving back in to fill the space it left. Her eyes go somewhere around my collarbone. Her fingers find the hem of her skirt and smooth it down again, even though it doesn’t need smoothing.

“Maybe we should,” she starts, but quickly stops. “I mean. This was… obviously that was… but maybe we should just…” she looks up at me briefly, then away, “… keep it casual? For now. Take it slow. I don’t want to… I mean, I just got here, and you’re… and I don’t want to do something stupid because I’m…” she gestures vaguely at herself, “… you know.”

I look at her.

Casual?

I want to crawl under your skin and entwine my soul with yours.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Let’s take it slow.”

She finally meets my eyes. “Really?”

“Really. That was my plan anyway before you sat on my lap.”

“You sat me on your lap,” she protests, and the corner of her mouth is doing that thing.

“I did escalate,” I agree. “And I owe you a pair of stockings.”

She laughs, and it’s the real one, the full one, and I’m finally able to take a full breath again.