Page 68 of The Boyfriend Experience

They lose the battle and stay closed as pleasure courses through me in waves. My muscles contracting against his cock. The low growl comes from deep within him as he reaches his climax with me, and then the explosion as he comes inside me.

I laugh. I can’t help it. I just smile, and laugh, and let the happiness and satisfaction bubble out of me like some wild child who’s never been let out to play.

“Jesus,” he says, his body relaxing.

I lean my face up into his neck. Smelling the new leather of his jacket, the faint scent of antiseptic from the tattoo, and aftershave leftover from this morning.

He grabs my hair, pulls it—not too hard, but not too softly either—until my mouth is up against his again.

We don’t kiss. We don’t even move. We just go still.

I can feel him smile. I’m sure he can feel me smile too.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Whatever you want, Oaks,” he replies back, kissing my lips softly. Tenderly.

“I’m not talking about—”

“I know what you’re talking about,” he says, cutting me off. “And my answer is still, ‘Whatever you want, Oaks.’”

“But—”

“Shhh,” he says. “Stop thinking.”

I laugh. “No one can stop thinking.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No?”

He continues to kiss me. His mouth more urgent. His lips more demanding. His will imposed.

“No. We’re going to take that pizza inside,” he says. “Then we’re going to fuck in a hot shower so we can get warm. And then we’re going eat dinner naked in front of your fireplace.”

I just smile.

“Any objections?”

“Can’t think of any.”

“Good, because that wasn’t really a question either.”

“You’re dumb.”

He places both palms flat on top of the sheepskin rug and lifts his upper body up off me. My shirt has ridden up, exposing my belly. And the cold, silver zippers of his jacket drag across my skin and make me shudder.

“Game over, Oaklee.”

I get serious. My smile gone. My shuddering body still. I have to swallow hard before I nod yes and say, “OK.” Because this… this is real. I think this is real. “OK,” I say again.

He gets up, puts his cock back in his pants and zips up. Then picks up my panties, slips them back up my legs so slowly I want to die… and offers me his hand as he grabs the pizza box with the other. We take the long way around to the stairs that lead down onto another terrace on the opposite side of the building so we don’t have to climb down the ladder.

Maybe he thinks we do this because it’s difficult to climb down a ladder holding a pizza box.

But that’s not why I take him the long way.

It’s because I don’t want to let go of his hand.