After the Fall

“Say the word if you want to stop.”
    “I will.”
    “This could get . . .” He paused and nodded toward my cast. “How exactly do we do this?”
    I laughed. “Fortunately, I’ve already thought about the logistics.”
    “Have you?”
    “I have.” I kissed him again. “We’ll sort all that out when we get to that point.”
    “Works for me,” he murmured. “I just want . . .” He looked me up and down, and when our eyes met, he didn’t have to finish the sentence. I pulled him to me again, and he closed the rest of the distance. This kind of kiss existed midway between where we’d gone last night and where I hoped we’d go tonight: still tentative, but leaving no room for doubt that we both wanted each other, and that we didn’t want to stop.
    “Bedroom,” I said.
    He nodded wordlessly.
    Of course there wasn’t a damned thing erotic or arousing about getting my crippled ass into the bedroom or onto my bed, let alone getting my clothes off, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind.
    We’d barely thrown off the last stitch of clothing before I was back in his arms. Ryan could be shy, and he could be aggressive, and right now, he was the latter. His hand slid over my cock, pressing just right to create the most mind-blowing friction. I felt around blindly, my sense of direction all kinds of fucked up because of his touch, and finally wrapped my fingers around his dick. We made out and stroked each other, and his hips thrust against my hand in a pantomime of how I hoped they’d move when he fucked me.
    His fingers tightened around me as he broke the kiss with a whispered, “Jesus Christ . . .”
    “Like that?”
    “Mm-hmm.” He stroked a little faster. “You?”
    “Oh. God. Yes.”
    His lips curved into a grin against mine, and then he kissed me again, full-on and deep and breathless, and if I could’ve moved at all, I’d have fucked his hand the way he fucked mine, and I probably would have come because holy hell . . .
    I shivered and pulled away enough to murmur, “Fuck me.” Another kiss. “Now. I don’t want to wait.”
    “N-now?” His eyes widened. “You don’t—”
    “Please.” I didn’t care that I was begging. I never begged. Ever. But goddamn, I wanted him.
    Ryan licked his lips. His body tensed, and when he met my eyes, his were full of nervousness. “Do you, um . . .” He gulped. “Condoms?”
    I nodded and gestured at the drawer beside the bed.
    He reached over and pulled out the condoms and lube. “And how exactly are we going to do this so we don’t hurt your leg?”
    “Like this.” I turned onto my side.
    “Are you sure?” He ran a hand down my arm. “With your cast leg on top?”
    I nodded and reached back to trail my fingers down his thigh. “Otherwise I can’t touch you.”
    “Is it comfortable?”
    “It’s fine.” Okay, so it wasn’t great, but damn if I was going to lie on top of my good arm and not be able to touch him, so I’d make do. We both put a pillow between my cast and my other leg. Once I was situated, Ryan settled in behind me. Jesus, the heat of his body took my breath away, and his hard cock pressed against my ass was almost more than I could take. Last night, I’d been afraid of not being able to stop things if I’d wanted to. Now I was sure I’d lose my mind if he didn’t fuck me right now .
    He leaned away for a second, and when he came back, slipped his hand between my legs. Cool, lubed fingers pressed against my ass, blurring my vision as they pushed in.
    “Fuck,” I breathed.
    He nuzzled my neck. “This comfortable?”
    I’m supposed to answer while you’re finger-fucking me? “Mm-hmm.” I bit my lip. His goatee tickled my skin, and his lips and breath were soft enough to send a delicious tingle down my spine. Fuck me, Ryan. Please . . .
    “I want you so bad,” he breathed. “But are you sure about this?”
    “Very.”
    “Do—”
    “Fuck me,” I growled. “Hurry up.”
    He laughed softly and pressed another kiss below my ear. “Give me a second.” Then he slid his fingers free. His body was suddenly no longer touching mine, and I wanted to reach back and find him and drag him back to me, but the sound of foil tearing calmed me down.
    Behind me, something rustled. Ryan cursed under his breath. More rustling. His hands must have been shaking. I wondered if he was as turned on as I was, or if he was nervous, or what, but then he was against me again, and all I wanted was to feel him.
    He guided his cock to me.