I wanted to f**k every part of her: the valley between her br**sts and the sweet fullness of her mouth, her round backside, and her soft, capable hands. But right now I wanted only to slide into the warmth of her sex. Her legs spread wider as she reached for her bedside table, for a box of condoms. I stared at the flush blooming across her chest, absently pulling along the length of my cock, until I registered she was extending the box to me.

“Let’s just start with one.” I chuckled.

Pushing the box into my hand, she nodded, eyes wide and pleading.

“So get one out,” I growled.

“I don’t know how to put it on,” she whined sweetly, fingers fumbling to open the packaging. She opened it messily, cardboard ripping wide open, and a snake of condoms spilled out onto her stomach.

I tore a single packet from the train and handed it to her, pushing the others onto the bed beside her. “It’s not complicated. Take it out, roll it down my dick.”

Her hands shook, and I hoped it was anticipation rather than nerves but I was quickly relieved when she reached for me, hungrily, and covered the head of my c**k with latex.

But I knew immediately it was on the wrong way; it wouldn’t unroll.

She realized it after several painful seconds, tossing it away with a little growl and a “damnit!” before grabbing another packet.

I was hard and swollen and so f**king ready I could feel my teeth grinding as she pulled the second condom out, studying it closely, and this time put it on the right way. Her hands were warm and her face was so close to my cock, I could feel her excited breath on my thighs.

I needed to f**k her.

She unrolled it awkwardly, fingers too tentative and light, and the whole process seemed to take an eternity. She slid it over me in tiny increments as if I were made of glass and not about to f**k her so hard the bed would drop into the apartment below us.

When she reached the base of my cock, she exhaled in relief, lying back and pushing her hips to me. But with an evil smile, I pulled the condom off and tossed it away.

Gritting my teeth through my agony, I told her, “Again. Don’t be so tentative. Put the condom on my dick so I can f**k you.”

She stared up at me, silver eyes full of confusion. And finally, they cleared as if she’d been able to hear my thoughts: I don’t want you to have a single second of uncertainty. I am as hard as I have ever been in my life, I just sucked your pu**y until you were screaming, and I’m not f**king delicate.

With her eyes on mine, she lifted the package to her teeth, tore it open, and pulled out the roll of latex. Feeling the shape, she turned it in her hand, rolled it down my length smoothly, quickly, giving me a rough squeeze at the base. She slid her hand down lower, pulled gently on my balls, and then slid her hand to my inner thigh.

“Good?” she whispered, stroking the sensitive skin there, no smile, no frown, simply needing to know.

I nodded, reaching to run my thumb over her cheek. “You’re perfect.”

With a relieved smile she leaned back and I followed, sliding through the heat of her sex, teasing her, teasing myself, and f**k, I was dizzy with how much I wanted her. My hips were tense, ready to arch and thrust, spine already itching with the need to explode inside this woman.

I was unprepared for the feeling of my bare chest fully over hers, her thighs slipping around my hips. It was too much. Hanna was too much.

“Put me inside you.”

She gasped, slipping her hand between us; I hadn’t given her much space. I was lying heavily on her, warm skin to warm skin, but she found me, guided me up until I could feel the dip of her entrance, and then she led me higher, slipping and teasing my c**k over the slick rise of her clit, the soft warm folds of her sex.

“I might be rough.”

She exhaled a burst of air, breathlessly telling me, “Good. Good.”

Pushing onto my hands, I watched as she rubbed me over her skin. Her eyes fell closed and a small moan slipped from her. “It’s just . . . it’s been a while,” she whispered.

I pulled my eyes up to her face, watching her lick her lips, her lashes flutter open so she could look down at the space between us, watch herself play with me.

“How long?” I asked.

She blinked back up at me again, her hand stilling between us. “About three years.” Her forehead wrinkled slightly as she said, “I’ve had sex with five guys but probably only had sex about eight times. I really don’t know what I’m doing, Will.”

I swallowed, bending to kiss her jaw. “Maybe I won’t be so rough then,” I whispered, but she laughed, shaking her head.