Page 155 of Gold Rush

“You like that I’m this hard for you, right?” I cover her hand with mine, sliding it down to the base. “Feel that?”

“Y-yeah.” Her voice is breathy, her pupils dilated as they follow the movement.

I guide her hand lower, to the underside of my erection. “Feel that? Swollen and heavy, ready to pump you full?”

Rory’s fingers graze an extra sensitive spot, making my hips jerk.

Her lips part, nothing except a swear slipping out.

“That’s how I feel about you coming really fast, baby.”

“I was going to—” She stops talking abruptly, flushing again. It spreads down her neck and across her chest.

“Going to what?”

“I was—I was going to ask if you’d record something for me. Before we stopped doing this. For me to listen to when I, you know …”

“No, I don’t know. Can you be more specific?”

She makes that exasperated huffing sound that used to be her response to just about everything I said. It’s cute as fuck under current circumstances.

“You’re literally holding my dick, Florence. I think we’re well past the small talk and first-name-basis phase.”

“I told you I was uptight.” She drops her hand and crosses her arms. Only to remember she’s topless and realize that encourages a very distracting view, so she drops her arms to her sides.

“I don’t care that you have an aversion to the word masturbate. I care if you’re not comfortable discussing something with me.”

Rory laughs. “Not comfortable? I’m having a full conversation with you while I’m naked! There were, like, two times that I had sex with Carson when we weren’t under … sheets.” Her voice gets progressively quieter, immediate regret appearing in her expression.

“Yeah,” I state. “Maybe this isn’t the moment to share details about your ex⁠—”

“I didn’t mean⁠—”

I interrupt her interruption. “Not if you want to be able to walk tomorrow at least.”

Her mouth shuts, whatever else she was planning to say no longer rating as important.

I smirk. “I don’t give a shit what you did with him. Actually, I do. The thought of another guy touching you seriously pisses me off. It always has, which was another obvious-as-fuck sign I ignored. If you want to record me saying how sexy you are”—I grasp her hip, then slide my hand around her thigh so the heel rubs against her soaked slit—“and how incredible it feels to be inside you bare and how you drench my dick, I will. I’ll do whatever you want. So, ask me. Tell me. Say what’s going through that brilliant mind. Let me in everywhere, not just this perfect pussy.”

She nods rapidly.

“Bend over and let me see.”

Rory might like being in control, but she loves when I boss her around in bed. She complies instantly, lying on her stomach on the mattress with her ass in the air, thighs spread so I can see between them. I yank my pants and boxers the rest of the way down, then reach for her wrists, gathering them both in one hand while I admire the view.

“That’s my girl.”

She wriggles on the mattress, desperately seeking some friction. “Flynn.”

I thrust between her thighs a few times, smearing her arousal along the shaft. “You want this? It’s all yours, Florence.”

Her pussy spasms when I say her full name. I knew she was full of shit when she constantly corrected me.

I sink in slowly, letting her adjust to the deeper angle. She strains and pulls to get free of my grip on her wrists, but she never asks me to let go. She has to let go, to trust me enough to get her there while she has limited autonomy. In this position, all she can do is take.

I keep the pace steady, filling her with even, slow shoves.

And suddenly, it’s not enough. I’m literally inside of her, and it’s not enough contact. I let go of her wrists and hike her left leg up on the bed, adjusting us until she’s on the mattress entirely instead of only partway. I lie down on top of her, draping her with my body, ensuring she can feel my weight but holding some with my arms so I’m not crushing her. Our bodies are lined up perfectly, my mouth right next to her ear.