Page 86 of Detour

“Coty,” I moan.

The rumble of his responding growl sends me crashing over the edge and happily taking flight. Riding the high all the way back to earth, Coty slips my leg off his shoulder and stands, holding my weight that even I can’t support. He strokes himself with his free hand, eager to go for two.

“Condom?”

His hand stills. “Shit. I don’t have one.” His eyes roam over my flushed body. “Want me to go get one? I can run next door.” He looks like that’s the last thing he wants to do.

I shake my head. “There’s some by my bed.”

An eyebrow cocks at that but I ignore it and its misogynistic undertone. He doesn’t have to explain having condoms and neither do I.

The water now cold, I lean over and turn the knob, shutting it off. I straighten, testing my shaky legs but Coty lifts me from the waist so I can wrap them around his, preventing me from falling and ruining the moment entirely. We both moan at the closeness, free of barriers. His head drops to my shoulder and pushes me into the wall, dragging his cock along my seam.

“Bed,” I rasp out while I still can.

Secure in his grasp, he walks us out to my bed and drops down to the mattress. Now straddling him, I quickly grab a condom from my nightstand and open the wrapper with my teeth. Coty’s hands caress my thighs as he watches through heavy lids, the pressure increasing once I place the condom on his tip. While he massages toward my already sensitive core, I roll the condom down his length and lean back to watch as his thumb circles my clit. Looking up, I find his eyes on mine.

“You like that?” I nod, biting my lip when his other hand joins the party. “Do you want-”

My lips crash onto his, silencing him. The answer to any question right now is yes. Only yes.

“I want you. Now,” I say, lifting up from his lap using his shoulders as support.

His hands stop teasing and find my waist to help line up my entrance with his straining cock. Our gazes connect again before I slowly lower onto him. Inch by delicious inch, I glide down until he’s fully sheathed, making us both groan.

“Fuck. You’re perfect.”

I’d disagree, stating that he’s the perfect one, but words—all of them—elude me at the moment, my only focus on how full my body is. How whole it feels now.

My forehead drops to his and we sit content, relishing the feel of each other for a moment. Digging my nails into his shoulders, I drag them down his chest, leaving angry streaks behind. If it’s possible, Coty grows harder beneath me. Our pants mingle in their own sultry dance, then Coty pulls me closer, rubbing my clit against his base. A loud, unfiltered moan rips from my mouth.

“Move for me.”

Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, my nails find a new home in his hairline and I lift up ever so slightly before I roll forward and down at the same time to create the perfect amount of friction. I repeat the motion, feeling my climb toward orgasm spike again. Coty groans out his appreciation as I keep the steady pace of rolling eight motions. When his legs beneath mine start to shake, I speed up with a little help from Coty’s encouraging grip. He guides me even closer, hitting my clit with each rotation, but I falter when the friction becomes too much. Luckily, Coty takes over, using his hands to continue moving our bodies the way we both need. With the increased tempo, I lose sight of where he ends and I begin until we become one, joining together in perfect harmony.

“Coty.”

“I know. Almost there, babe.”

“Coty,” I warn.

“Now.”

And with one final thrust, we kiss our orgasm straight from the other’s bodies, then collapse on the bed together, completely spent.

One eye cracked, I see Coty wearing the same devilish smirk that held me captive from the beginning, and I think I finally understand what that feeling people call home is.

CHAPTER 29

Angela

A fter cleaning himself up in the bathroom, Coty returns to my limp form sprawled across the mattress, holding a couple of towels and tries to hand me one.

“Here. Your hair’s dripping everywhere.”

“The whole bed is wet.”

“Where are your spare sheets? I’ll switch them.”