Page 11 of Slapshot Baby

He takes his time after that. When he finally settles his body over mine, he stops long enough to push the hair back from my face, like it matters more than the ache he's built inside me.

“Keep your eyes open,” he says.

"Why?"

"Because I want to watch you."

He slides into me with a maddening slow pace.

The contact is electrifying, making all my nerve endings come alive.

“This is so beautiful,” he says.

He's right. I hate that he's right,

Then he's not moving. He's just inside me.

We're looking at each other. And I feel completely exposed in a way that has nothing to do with nudity.

When he eventually moves, it's slow and thorough. His thrusts are deep, deliberate. His hand finds mine, laces our fingers together. He presses our joined hands into the mattress beside my head.

"Look at me," he says.

I do.

"Stay with me."

I think he means right now in this moment.

But my brain has forgotten every form of speech.

I can only nod and hold onto him as he rocks into me, building a rhythm that feels less like sex and more like conversation. His breathing gets heavier. My hips start meeting his.

"That's it," he murmurs into my neck. "Let me feel you."

I stop holding back. Start letting the pleasure move through me.

He watches like it's the hottest thing that's ever happened to him, watches like my expressions matter more than his own release.

A gasp leaves my mouth. Then a sound of pleasure. Then another.

Every time I try to hide my breath catching, he chases it out of me, murmuring against my throat that I don't have to hold anything back. Not tonight with him. The worst part is I believe him enough to stop trying.

When I come, it's not controlled. It's me screaming, my fingers digging into his shoulders and my whole body clenching around him.

He follows seconds later with a gasp, his rhythm breaking, his breath catching, his body going tight before he empties himself inside me. He stays there for a while, his weight on me, his mouth against my temple.

When he finally rolls to the side, he pulls me with him, tucks me against his chest. I'm lying here in his bed with his arm around me, his heartbeat under my ear.

This is not what I signed up for.

The sex was supposed to be casual.

It wasn’t meant to feel important.

Kai’s asleep within minutes. The sleep of someone who's satisfied and unburdened.

I lie awake in the dark, studying his face in the ambient light from the city outside. My fingers trace the tattoos on his arm.