He nuzzled into me, fingers still inside of me as I trembled out my release.
“Heath,” I said again.
“What do you need?” he asked, then proceeded to lave my clit generously with his tongue.
When I found my voice again, I rasped out, “I need your cock. Please.” I was panting as I begged. “Please. Please. Please.”
He moaned and surged to his feet. He got his dick out of his pants like he’d been trained to do it, like those military guys you see in movies, dismantling guns, every small motion keyed to the utmost efficiency.
He pushed into me bare. Even in my lust haze, I caught that right away.
“I’m not on the pill,” I gasped.
He knew that, dammit, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him pulling out long enough to wrap up.
“I know,” he groaned out, already moving inside of me, rutting mindlessly like he just didn’t care. “God, Lourdes. I missed you.”
That, and the big erection banging me against the wall had me distracted enough to almost let it go. Almost.
Insanity.
I pushed against his scarred shoulders in a last ditch effort, and that got his attention, as I knew it would.
“What . . . ?” he asked, hips still surging at me, the part of him that just couldn’t stop was not stopping for even a second.
“Don’t you have any condoms?”
His face screwed up in what could only be called agony. “Fuck me, I don’t. I’m not even supposed to be here.”
I wanted to cry. And he kept moving all the while.
“I’ll pull out, okay?” he rasped into my ear, still rocking into me.
I did some very bad math in my head, expedient math that’s sole purpose was to get us both off in a hurry.
Pure idiocy.
Believe me, I know.
“We should be fine,” I gasped. “I don’t think it’s the right time of month, so we should be fine.” As if I said ‘we should be fine’ enough we would be?
And the rational me knew damn well that I had never been regular enough to rely on math like that.
Rational me was gone while hedonist me was getting her world rocked.
Pure idiocy. I know, I know.
“Thank God,” he growled, ramming into me faster, harder. “Fucking miracle, that.”
I really thought the timing worked in our favor. I really, really did but that being said, when I’d told him that, I’d still been thinking he’d pull out. Just to be safe, that extra bit of insurance that was by no means a guarantee, but still better than not pulling out.
I came first. Of course I did. He’d pound me all night before he let himself go before me.
He gripped both of my wrists and started kissing me on the mouth like he wanted to eat me alive as he let himself go.
He was buried to the fucking hilt when his cock started jerking out its release inside of me.
Even with my brain still lust fuzzy from orgasm, I felt jolted back to alertness when I realized what was happening inside of me.
“Pull out,” I moaned into his mouth.
He started to, genuinely gave it a try, I thought, but about halfway out, he shoved back in deep and held himself there, rooting inside of me.
Like he just couldn’t help himself.
This was one of many, many reasons why the pull out method was a terrible form of birth control. Oh yeah, that, and the fact that it really didn’t work, just felt a lot more safe than him shooting his whole load inside of me, as opposed to say, smaller amounts of pre-cum.
“Heath,” I tried to make my tone plaintive, but it came out breathy and pleading. Even I couldn’t tell if I sounded more like I wanted him to pull out or stay inside.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he muttered, but he still didn’t pull out, instead jolting inside of me.
And, God, I was just as bad, still clenching around him, milking out every drop, not putting my foot down, not making him stop.
And then he said a thing that thrilled and terrified me, and I couldn’t have said which reaction was stronger.
“Do you want to have any more kids, or are you done for good?”
I’d never (not for one second) ever even considered this. My boys were grown. That was it. I probably could have more. I was in perfect health. I’d just never thought of it.
And what the hell did it mean that he was asking me this? I was scared to even contemplate it. Scared to hope for any possibility.
“I’ve never thought about it,” I said honestly. “Why do you ask?”
He shook his head, a short jerk of a motion, as though he was making himself stay quiet on the subject.
But it didn’t work. Miracle of miracles, he couldn’t keep himself quiet.
He pressed his forehead to mine, still shamelessly inside of me, still pinning me to the wall. “If somehow you did get pregnant, I just want you to know, and I understand and respect that it’s your choice, but if you were to wonder what I want, just know that I’d want you to keep it. Us to keep it. Even if the timing is horrible, and I’m off working. Even if you don’t see me for a long time. That’s what I would want. No question.”
Holy shit. I had no clue what to do with that. Whether to be happy or horrified.
“Good to know,” I finally said.
Lame, I know.