Abby's been editing films for a living while swiping left and right on dating apps for the last six years. All she craves is human connection--is it too much to ask in Manhattan?
Just as she's given up all hope, a one-night stand with a stranger re...
Am I making him uncomfortable? But I don't have it in me to leave this cocoon and go back to my couch. Not when that sweet smell is seeping into my senses. Do all of Nate's clothes smell like this?
The scent is coming from his collar, consuming me. I push my body up to nuzzle his neck.
What is this smell? I rub my cheek against his collarbone.
Why is it driving me crazy and making me act weird? As if I'm dying of thirst, and this scent is the only way I can survive.
I tuck my nose deeper into his neck, and inhale. Nate's skin reeks of it, right where his pulse beats. The remains of his oceanic perfume still lingers... But this smoky sweetness that drives me crazy lies within his undertones. My breathing is getting shakier. Nate's chest is rising and falling deeper. I gulp. His body is getting warmer under mine. I'm melting into him, one fuzzy cell at a time.
Nate slides down on the couch and aligns his face with mine. He's breathing faster now, fanning my dry, parted lips—smells like creamy beer. Is he dying of thirst, the same way that I am?
Nate pulls my face closer. Are we kissing? God, we are kissing! He guides my lips apart and slips his tongue in, making me cling to his t-shirt for dear life. Tasting him nourishes me. I'm not thirsty anymore, though I can't stop drinking from his plump lips. His fingers move across my cheek and end up in my hair, syncing me with his rhythm. Our tongues dance together, and when he pulls back, mine crosses his lips once again.
Nate grabs me by the back of my knee and flips me over, pushing me down under him.
"Don't stop," I beg. "Kiss—"
His lips cover mine, and I moan into our kiss.
I'm crushed under him, trapped between his chest and the soft sofa. Feels like I'm in an ocean, and we're sinking together. Kissing him is the only way I can survive. I resurface momentarily as he rises to remove my t-shirt, only to be back under when our lips crush again.
Exhaling into my mouth, Nate grasps my waist. I'm fitting perfectly into his palm. I arch my back to guide his hand as it travels up from my stomach, and circles my breast, cupping it. A pinch on my nipple makes me moan. "Nate!"
Digging my fingers into his scalp, I guide his lips to my niple. Nate grunts, biting it, sending hot waves to my core.
I'm about to lose it. He's sucking my breast now, flicking his tongue. I'm moaning uncontrollably, completely at his mercy as Nate takes his sweet time devouring my body.
I rake my nails down his back, attempting to tug his t-shirt up. With a grunt, Nate lifts himself just enough to get rid of the fabric in one swift motion. Then lowering himself onto his elbows, he turns his attention to my other breast, giving it a long lick before whispering, "I can do this all night."
I hope he does. But then... I want more.
"Take me," I beg in need. My eyes are wide open, fixated on the pink TV lights dancing on the ceiling. "Just fuck me."
Dipping a hand into his pocket, Nate takes out a roll of foils. Wait—did he get these from his bedroom drawer earlier? Did he know this was going to happen?
Do I really care?
Nate rises on his knees and places a foil between his teeth. Then he rips it apart from the pile and throws the rest on the coffee table. The silver packaging shines between his lips as he grabs my shorts. I raise my hips. Nate pulls the satin material off my bottom and leaves it on the floor.
His sweatpants come off too and join the growing pile of clothes by the coffee table's feet. He tears the foil open, then throws the aluminum piece on the floor. My eyes are following his hands as he lowers the condom. His shoulders are tight. His abs are perfectly visible and looking delicious. My heart throbs in my chest as his hands reach his crotch.
His erection is glorious. Not intimidatingly huge, but big enough to make my mouth water. Sucking another a wet breath through his teeth, he slips the condom on his tip and rolls it all the way through. The glow in his green eyes is promising wonders. I can't believe I've spent all this time chasing an illusion where reality had been right here, in front of me. Nate is real. No games. No second agendas. He is the realest person in the universe. And we are about to have sex.
Holy heavens. We are about to have sex.
Nate pushes my legs apart, then lowers his body top of mine. Our eyes meet as he guides his tip to my entrance. Feels like he's gazing into my soul as he slowly enters me. My walls eagerly expand around him. The pulse under my belly button makes my skin tick.
"I'm all in," he whispers, pressing his forehead against mine. "All in." Then he moves his hips back, and thrusts forward.
He's riding me slowly. My fingers dig into his back. His tip is torturing a sweet spot, sending shivers through my body. In that moment as I hold onto him, we aren't chasing an orgasm, but enjoying being in our skins, until neither of us can't take it anymore.
Nate rises on his hands. His face is covered in sweat—he wipes it against his shoulder. "You...close?" he pants.
My lips part, but I can't form the words. My eyelids are getting heavier. My moans are louder. Oh, God... "Nate," I whisper, grasping his back. "Nate! I'm com—" I cry out, and then squirm.
Without a warning, my body jerks up. Nate catches me in his arms and lays me back down with a growl. My face is buried in his neck. I scratch his back as I unfold under him, wave after wave. I don't have control over my body—I'm helpless in his arms. Nate tenses, then lets go with a final grunt. We cling onto each other as my walls keep pulsing around him, forcing him to ride me as far as he can.
Nate's head falls next to mine. Our hips slow down as our sweaty chests rise and fall together. We are both breathless, wheezing. Our lips are eager to find each other's.
"Abby?"
I nod... I'm okay.
Nate smiles, and we kiss until we can breathe on our own again.
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