“It’s so good,” he said, teeth nipping at my shoulder, hips moving in slow, grinding circles. “So fucking warm around me.” He sucked at my skin and took my breasts in both of his hands, squeezing them, pinching my nipples before sliding one hand down between my legs.

I was wet and slippery and his fingers migrated down, right where I wanted them. “There.”

“Yeah?” Will asked, and I nodded, whimpering as I felt my body clutch him. I tried to push back, tried to hold him inside me before he pulled out again. We moved together like that, the sound of sex filtering through the room, broken up only by the occasional thump or voices from the people in the neighboring apartments.

He sped up, relentless, and I searched for something to hold on to, some way to anchor myself. I reached behind me, gripping his hip with one hand and draping the other over the back of the chair, my cheek turned to the cool leather. His skin was slick with sweat and I dug my nails in, knowing that would only make it better for him.

Will swore, his breath ragged and hot against my back, and I begged, not caring if the people upstairs could hear me, the people on the other side of the walls. “Harder. Harder, Will. Please.”

“Fuck, Plum.” He sped up, frantic, and I could hear the slap of his skin against mine, the sound of the chair as the back legs cleared the edge of the carpet and scraped along the wooden floor.

“Oh God,” I gasped, “oh ... Oh—”

I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of heat move from between my legs and across the surface of my skin before everything exploded into sensation. His teeth pressed to my neck, and his hands cupped my breasts, and his wild noises told me he was going to fucking come only seconds before he turned brutal and frantic, pushing so deep into me he was pressed all along the length of my body from thigh to shoulder.

We lay naked on the couch, me on my back with Will’s head resting on my stomach. “I’m sorry I left this morning,” I said, curling my fingers through his hair. “I know you said it was fine, but I wanted to say it again.”

He looked up, resting his chin near my hipbone. “I know, Plum. And for the record, you’re allowed to be mad and need space.”

“I turned off your alarm clock. I wasn’t being very nice.”

He laughed before leaning over the edge of the couch, returning with my backpack. “I’m sure we’re going to do or say a few not-nice things to each other over the next fifty years. If they’re all as nefarious as giving each other a couple extra hours of sleep, we’ll be in pretty good shape.”