“Fuck. Right,” she says, voice pained. She straightens, and moves to climb off me but I reach for her waist, stopping her.

“God. Wait.” I take a deep breath, suddenly aware of the sweat at my temples, the way the sheets are clinging to my back. Every muscle is strung too tight, like live wires ready to snap with the slightest pressure. Her body feels like it belongs to me now. “Just let me... feel you. Just for a second.”

And I must be some kind of a masochist because why else would I torture myself?

Harlow’s skin is sleep-warm and her limbs heavy where they rest against me. I’ll never last more than a minute with her looking down at me—sleepy and needy—with nothing between us.

It takes me only a second to decide, to roll us both over and slip back between her thighs. Her legs fall open, knees bent and pressed to my sides. “I just want to feel you,” I tell her again, trying to ignore the eager way she nods, how willingly she agrees with me. Her mouth is too tempting, lips wet and parted, and I lean in, tasting her. “And if you want... I could pull out?”

She pushes her words out between tiny, biting kisses: “Would you... come... on me?”

There have always been things I’ve been into—things that got me off in the privacy of my own head—sex acts that are hard to bring up in a new, more tentative relationship. I want to be messy, rough, a little dirty, a little taboo. I want to claim Harlow everywhere, try anything she wants, and see the mark of rope and teeth and my spankings on her skin.

I like that she wants this as much as I do.

“You want that?” I ask, slowly pressing inside and nearly growling from the pleasure of it. “You want to see it on your skin?”

Harlow throws her head back, fingers twisting in the sheets. Her tits move with each of my thrusts, the mattress squeaks in the darkness, and I’m only vaguely aware that there are neighbors next door, people both upstairs and down. But the only thing I care about is the way she grips me from the inside out, how her skin looks in the moonlight and the tiny sounds that escape her mouth with every thrust.

I’m too close and it’s too fast but I don’t think either of us even cares. A spark flashes hot and moves down my spine, heat that settles in my lower body. I feel myself get harder, my fingers grip her hips so tightly I’m actually afraid she’ll be bruised tomorrow.