“Thomas?” I said, cutting him off.
“Yes?”
“Me too,” I whispered. “Okay? Me too.”
His arms wrapped around me like steel bands as understanding and relief coursed through him. He pulled me up, his mouth finding mine, and he rolled me back under him, his cock growing hard inside me again.
“Thank God,” he groaned against my lips. “Oh, my dear, sweet Jane. No more welcome words were ever spoken, no sweeter prose ever conceived of, than those two words. Say them again.”
“Me too,” I said and laughed as he pressed his hips into mine, his cock slipping deeper inside me.
“Again,” he said, thrusting harder, one hand rising to knead my breast.
“Me too,” I said.
“Again.” His teeth found my neck and nipped, his lips tickling my skin with kisses until I squealed.
“Me too!” I shouted, my laughter fading to moans as his mouth found my nipple and his hips worked in earnest against mine.
“Oh, Thomas,” I sighed.
“Me too, Jane. Me too.”