Commanding Her

Amaya

“You too,” I replied as the two of us undressed each other. My hands were shaking as I plucked at his shirt and unbuckled his jeans, and there was still some part of me, paranoid, that was reminding me this wasn’t going to make getting over him any easier. But I didn’t care. After how distant we’d been, I craved the connection to him, that way of pulling ourselves back to each other the way I needed right now.

Once he had me fully naked and I had stripped him down, he pushed me back on the bed and ran his hands all over my body. I traced the muscles on his shoulders, wondering once again what the hell a man like this was doing interested in someone like me. He could have had his pick of supermodels with a body like that, yet he touched me like I was fine velvet, expensive, precious, rare.

He was already hard, his cock pressed against my inner thigh with an eagerness, and I just wanted to feel him inside me. He was kissing me as he reached over to the bedside cabinet, making out