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"How do you miss the entire sex ed curriculum? I thought you went to a religious school; didn't they dwell on it to try to make it so embarrassing nobody actually had sex?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Stop laughing about it, Jaime. And I did go to a religious school. They fit the whole damn curriculum into a single week, and I was home sick, so I just wrote the exam for it and moved on."
He refused to stop snickering. She was going to whack him with a pillow soon, and he'd deserve it, but that was no reason to stop.
"And the exam didn't include –"
"They were Septas! No, they did not insist on watching every student stick a condom on a banana!"
"I kind of want to watch you try that," he declared. She glowered at him. "It's the first thing you've ever suggested you don't know how to do, Wench, forgive me for being surprised."
She looked a little hurt, and he sobered. He walked his fingers up her waist, aiming for the ticklish spot on the side of her ribs. It was also, as he'd been pleased to discover, a very sensitive spot; she shivered when he dragged his nails across it.
"Surprise," she muttered. "I've never put a condom on a man. Now shut up about it."
"Mm. You know, you shutting me up is far more effective than me – mmf."
She pressed a little more firmly. He considered the palm she had over his mouth, and tried to communicate contriteness with his eyes.
"I'm starting to think I'm more in the mood for ice cream," she threatened. "I will be sure, if one more word out of your mouth is even a little bit mocking."
"Sorry," he said, quietly. "I wasn't mocking you, love, I promise."
She shrugged one shoulder, looking cross. That was far from the expression he wanted her to have, so he tugged gently at her. She bent, albeit a bit stiffly, and he leaned in and kissed her. It took a few moments for her to relax enough to soften against him, but she did, and he licked encouragingly at the seam of her mouth.
Her hands found his shoulders, holding him where she wanted him. He sank into it, palming her breasts with a happy sigh. The bed smelled of them, hell, the whole room smelled of them, and he nudged the little foil packets that had interrupted their afternoon aside. His cock was more than happy to resume, pushing insistently up against her hip, and gods but he wanted it to be inside her, but he could wait.
"Idiot," she sighed, pulling her mouth from his. "Just… put the condom on. Please. I don't want to talk about this."
"You could take this as a golden opportunity to learn," he pointed out, but took one hand from her skin to grope about for one.
"Sometime when we haven't been here for hours," she grumbled. His lips quirked. She wouldn't appreciate it if he told her that he wanted to make love to her for hours out of every day, wanted to be always in bed with her, watching her nipples redden and her skin flush from heat and sweat and arousal. She wouldn't stand for sappiness until she was a lot closer to orgasm than she was yet.
"I'll hold you to that," he promised, instead, and finally found a condom.
He didn't comment on the fact that she watched him put it on, her tongue the tiniest bit extended. He rolled her onto her side, instead, and distracted her with kisses while he worked his hand back between her legs. She was still wet; he'd kept her on the brink until she begged, earlier that afternoon, and she took two of his fingers now with a pleased murmur.
It turned to a moan as he finally slid his cock in. Her nails scrabbled at his back, her passage tight around him. He bit her lip by accident, and pulled back to pant. He'd not hurt her – he never wanted to hurt her – but it was hard to ease in, hard to stay slow and careful and let her get used to him inside her. Her eyes flickered with shock every time he fucked her, like she'd never had a cock inside her even though he knew she had, he'd not even been the first. But there were her eyes, every single time. It made him feel greedy.
"There," he whispered, when he was all the way inside. Her leg was curled around his waist, opening her for him, her heat nearly singeing him and her breasts heaving as she took him in.
"Gods, you feel good," she answered. She rocked against him, gently at first, then faster, and they were good like this, face to face and fucking each other like they never wanted to stop.
"So do you." She flashed him a smile, as if that hadn't been inane, and he worked her clumsily into place to kiss. She abandoned his shoulder blade to rake her fingers through his hair.
"Want you."
"You have me," he groaned, because she did. She took his mouth then, and or he took hers, and it hardly mattered which.