Well, Actually

by Mazey Eddings

Rylie wraps an arm around my waist, sliding me closer against him, our sweaty chests rubbing together. I’m dismayed to realize his sweatpants are still on, and my greedy hands dive to the waistband, trying to tug them off. Rylie laughs again, stilling my eager fingers. “Not sure what could possibly be funny right now,” I growl against his mouth, batting at his hands. He playfully swats back, then grips my wrists, turning me so my back is on the bed, hands held up near my ears as he looms over me. “I’m not a piece of meat, Eva,” he says, smile smug. I can’t believe I actually like seeing this man so happy. “I want you to tell me what you want.” “I want to come with you inside me,” I say, abandoning any self-consciousness about demanding too much. If Rylie wants to hear it, I’ll fucking tell him. “I want you to fuck me hard and deep and tell me again how pretty I look while you do it. I want you to make me come again, and I’ll do whatever you tell me to make it happen.” He pauses for a moment, lips parted and eyes electric. “God, you’re so fucking lovely when you beg.”