Hard.

She practically bows off the bed, her hands reaching for me, her fingers sinking into my hair and holding me to her. I continue lavishing all of my attention on her breasts, taking my time, working her into a froth. I can tell she’s amped up by the ragged sound of her breathing, the rapidness of her heartbeat beneath my mouth.

I’m a tit man. I always have been. And Amelia has a spectacular pair. Not as big as I’m normally drawn to, but I can make accommodations.

Especially for this woman.

Eventually I rise back up, my mouth finding hers in a sloppy kiss. She pulls me on top her, her legs spreading wide so I settle in between them, my erection pressed against her center. I start to grind against her, subtly at first, and then with more force as we continue to kiss. She moves with me, until we’re both rubbing against each other like a couple of teenagers and I’m reaching for the front of her pants, eager to feel more skin.

“You have a condom?” she asks when I break away from her intoxicating mouth so I can concentrate on getting her damn clothes off.

Nodding, I undo the snap and slide down the zipper. The fabric falls open, revealing pale pink cotton, and I nearly groan in agony. “One in my wallet.”

“I have some in the bedside table,” she admits.

I pause, glancing up at her. Her cheeks are a sweet shade of pink. “Prepared, huh?”

“They came in the goody bag we all got at Candice’s bachelorette party,” she explains. “I just tossed them in there when I got home.”

“Nice.” I start to pull her pants down and she lifts her butt a little so they slide off easier. “Did Candice have a stripper?”

“Oh God, no. She would never stand for that, though she had no problem with Charlie having a stripper at his bachelor party,” Amelia says, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as she watches me pull her pants completely off, revealing those long, pretty legs.

“That stripper took a liking to me,” I say, my eyes on the prize. Meaning her panties. I want them off, but I’m enjoying looking at them too. Wondering what they’re hiding.

“Are you really telling me you hooked up with a stripper right now?” she asks incredulously.

I start to laugh, shaking my head. “I didn’t hook up with her. I’m just saying she took a liking to me.”

“I can see why.” Amelia sits up, her hands going to my shoulders so she can grip them firmly. “I mean…look at you.”

“Right back at you,” I whisper before I kiss her yet again. My jaw is starting to get tired, but I’m not about to stop. I feel like we’ve barely started.

More kissing leads to more touching and the next thing I know, my hand is nestled between her thighs, my fingers pressing against the front of her panties. There’s a hitch in her breath and her mouth becomes more frantic, her hips straining closer to my hand as I slowly start to rub. Up and down.