"Shopping," she murmured, fingers clumsy as she helped Lawrence shrug silky material off her shoulders. She tugged impatiently at his t-shirt. "And where does she --?" "Props meeting. Christ, you're beautiful." Strong hands skimmed the pale slope of Cate's shoulders, and she shuddered into the contact, filling her own hands with cocoa skin. "Now, Lawrence. Now." She wrapped long legs around his hips, tiny black skirt riding up, pooling at her waist. Both moaned at the first smooth thrust. Lawrence tightened his hold, cupped large hands under Cate's ass to hold her in place. No one else had ever filled her like this, held her so easily in strong arms. No one else could give her the subtle balance of reverent murmurs while slamming inside her, each deep, sure thrust a mark of ownership. Pale fingers slid along dark shoulders as Cate forced her eyes open. Such a beautiful contrast of light and shadow -- her hands on him, his cock in her. She had no idea how she'd lived so long without this -- without Lawrence filling her, claiming her, without kisses that burned under her skin, without the molten heat of his body pressing hers into the wall. She crossed her ankles, took him deeper, shivered as he whispered in her ear, telling her exactly how much he loved fucking her like this, how hot she was, how wet. Lawrence didn't fuck her like she was an untouchable goddess; he didn't kiss her like she was made of porcelain. He simply took. Stroke after glorious stroke, his cock a heavy, thick weight pressing deep. And afterwards, snuggled under cotton sheets, she reflected that Lawrence didn't treat her like she would break after sex. He simply hauled her on top of himself, wrapped thick arms around her and inhaled deeply. "I love the way you smell," he murmured. "Love the way you feel." She shifted, crossed her arms over his chest. "How much longer do we have?" He glanced at the clock. "Another hour." "I hate this," she said, placing a soft kiss on his throat. "Nothing we can really do." "I know." "Feel like grabbing a bite?" "I could eat, yeah." Cate smiled, and licked a long path up Lawrence's collarbone. "But I haven't worked up enough of an appetite yet." "You haven't, hmm?" Lawrence's voice rumbled deep in his chest, and she trembled, already reaching for him again. Reality could wait.
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