Page 78 of Put a Rink on It

“Yes.”

Needing breathing room from his heady stare, I spin on my heels and head to the living room, two steps off the kitchen. I rest against the arm of the couch, my back to Nero, my ears picking up every sound.

The scratch of the chair against the wood.

His feet hitting the floor, stalking in the direction I went.

His heavy breaths coming closer until he appears in front of me, dropping onto the cushion, his legs angled off the couch.

“Do you want to put a blanket down? Gonna be messy,” I state nonchalantly.

“Oh, good point.” He taps my head, then shoots off the couch, returning with a flannel blanket. He makes me move, covering the couch and tucking it under the back cushions so it stays in place.

We’ve forgone condoms every time. As much as it’s probably wise to be doubly protected and the cleanup would be more manageable, his being bare inside me hits differently. So much better than any other experience. The emotions are heightened, each pulse of his cock amplified.

I’ve never had sex without a condom before Nero, but I don’t think I want to go back.

Or maybe it’s the connection we share and would be similar with protection as well. Not that I need to prove it.

Pulling me by my arms, Nero stands me up, discarding my hoodie and casting it aside. He frees me of my T-shirt, much to his delight if the way he licks his lips is any indication. With nimble fingers and his intense gaze locked on mine, he reaches around my back, struggling to undo my bra. Determination sets in his expression, and his fingers work tirelessly to unhook it. “No doubt a man designed this,” he curses.

“For sure,” I agree with a giggle.

Next, his fingers tuck into the waistband of my leggings, and with no precision at all, he shoves them down my legs, panties included.

He claps his hands, his giddy attitude infectious and in contrast with the man who commanded me to the living room. “Ah, better. On the couch with you.” He nudges my shoulder, as if his word is law.

I could easily argue with him, but since it’s what I want, it’s futile. I prop my back against the arm and bend my legs, feet on the cushions, knees in the air, giving Nero a show of my glistening pussy. He’s too busy getting undressed to notice, but soon his eyes zero in.

“Always ready for me. That’s hot, Marina.”

“You’re hot,” I counter. “And I’m needy. Not always the best combination.”

Thank goodness he suggested we start up the besties with benefits arrangement. I couldn’t live in his space, constantly be around him, and be expected to behave. The pull is too potent to resist.

With his ass hanging off the cushion, he swipes a finger up my seam, eliciting a hitch in my breath, but man does it feel good when he touches me. Everywhere, but especially on my most sensitive parts.

His eyes rove over my body, assessing the situation, his lips frowning. “The reality of this isn’t quite matching the image in my head.” He pats the back of the couch. “This is gonna impede me. We should take this to the bedroom.”

My hands loop around his shoulders, drawing his torso closer. His inquisitive scrutiny doesn’t deter me. “Not happening, Champ. Fuck me here. And now.”

To solve the problem, I force him to a sitting position, and I climb on his lap.

“Fuck.” He drops his mouth to mine, and our tongues tangle. My fingers press in between the muscles of his upper back, harder as the kiss deepens. I fall further under his spell, needing more of him.

Needing all of him, if I’m honest.

It’s the kiss, the escalated arousal talking, but damn if I don’t want to feel this every day for the rest of my life.

The kiss is sultry, two mouths tangoing for the prize, melding as if our next breaths depended on the other. In a way, mine does. I need Nero like I need air.

When did I become this woman? This woman who needs a man to satisfy her, fulfill her desires, in charge of her happiness.

At the moment, I don’t care.

I rip my mouth away, my chest panting with the want coursing through me, the only fix an orgasm from Nero. When he questions me with a quirk of his brow, I state, “Need you. Please.”

“Marina, I⁠—”