Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

38. Like Lovers Do

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Aside from the lamplight shining down the hallway from the living room, our only source of light was the soft glow of Striker's luminous eyes. We stood at the foot of my bed, barely inches apart. His hands rested on my hips, and he bent down until our lips were so close that I could feel his breath. My face and body burned, and my hands trembled like it was the first time.

Striker noticed when I laid my hands on his arms, and he pulled away just enough to look at me. "You alright?"

I smiled, an anxious sigh escaping my lips, and I nodded. "I-I'm just nervous. It sounds stupid — I don't know why, but . . . it feels like our first time again."

He appeared a bit puzzled, but lifted a hand and pushed a strand of hair from my face. "Do you wanna keep goin'?"

Without hesitation, I leaned closer and slipped my hands under the open collar of his shirt. "Yes."

Striker smiled and brought his lips to mine, trailing his hands back down my torso and curling his fingers under the skirt of my dress. He yanked the hem of the dress upward, exposing my panties, and lightly squeezed the flesh on my hips. Slowly, he peeled the dress off of my body until he reached my arms, where I took over and pulled the dress over my head. Dropping the garment on the floor, I looked him in those bright eyes as I unbuttoned his shirt. He shrugged the button-up off his shoulders and tossed both it and his wife beater to the side before reaching behind me to unhook my bra. My fingers clumsily unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans, and I had just begun to pull his bottoms down over his hips when he sat on the edge of the bed and guided me into his lap. I straddled his hips, and he shifted beneath me to push his bottoms down, freeing his manhood.

I felt him growing more erect underneath me, pressing against my womanhood through my panties. I sighed at the small sparks of pleasure it gave me, and I just couldn't help myself. Striker let out a stifled groan against my lips, his arm tightening around my waist as I began to grind on him. I broke off our kiss to look at him, keeping eye contact while I rocked my hips back and forth over his hardening member. I moved tantalizingly slow, savoring each bolt of pleasure that shot through me, and my soft panting gradually turned to mewling when Striker pushed me further down on his lap and bucked his hips into mine.

Striker took my head in his hands and kissed me hard. I clung to him, running my fingers through his snowy hair. He pulled away to cover my neck in open-mouthed kisses, his hands roughly exploring my body.

"Striker," I sighed, tipping my head back to give him easier access. "I want all of you."

Striker suddenly pushed himself to his feet and laid me on the bed before fully removing his jeans and boxer briefs. He hooked a finger into my panties and tugged them off of my hips, kissing my thigh as he slid the underwear down to my feet. Gently prying my legs open, he crawled on top of me and lowered himself onto my frame. One of his hands grazed my inner thigh while the other cupped my cheek. I smiled warmly at him and planted a firm kiss on his mouth.

"Make love to me," I murmured against his lips, wrapping a leg around his hip to draw him closer. A smile crossed Striker's face before he kissed me again, and he glanced down to position himself and slipped his erection inside me.

I gasped at the unexpected pain: a raw, abrasive pain in my walls that was terribly exacerbated by his movement inside me. Admittedly, after how many times we'd had sex over the past several weeks, I was surprised I hadn't anticipated at least some level of soreness — but judging from this pain, we had clearly overdone it recently.

Seemingly unaware of my predicament, Striker let out a small moan and started to move. He clutched the bedsheets beside my head as he began to thrust in and out of me, quickly picking up speed.