Reagan was ready for Caius no matter where they were. In bed, outside, in an empty room at the country club... when they wanted each other, they wanted each other. But there was something magical about having sex outside, surrounded by nature and the elements. It was invigorating in a way Reagan could never quite describe, but she knew Caius felt it too. Reagan's head fell back against his shoulder, her breath leaving her in shallow, harsh pants. His fingers were expertly stroking her, applying just the right amount of pressure to get Reagan trembling as her body began to climb toward that delicious peak all over again. She breathed his name, slapping her hips back against his even harder now, as she lost any semblance of patience she had left. Her fingers tightened in his hair and while she was trying not to hurt him, Reagan was more focused on her own pleasure in that moment that nothing else mattered but the desire to come around his cock again and again until she couldn't physically take anymore.
Caius never minded being hurt a little in the pursuit of pleasure. He wasn’t a masochist, but there was something undeniably sexy about touching one another with more force than usual, getting carried away by passion. Caius’s hand tightened on Reagan’s breast, fingers pinching at the nipple as he picked up his pace even further, pounding into her with real force. He knew the second orgasm was usually harder to reach than the first, but he also knew Reagan’s body as well as he knew his own. He grunted and panted against her skin, working her clit the best way he knew how, doing his best to ignore the delicious pressure in his balls. She always felt so fucking good, it took concentration to hold back his orgasm. Having sex with Reagan was always like walking a tightrope -- he could fall off at any time, but he’d practiced enough by now to do it well.
Reagan's breathy pants had turned into sharp, loud cries that got lost in the night air around them. His hand at her breast and the way he pounded into her so fervently, the sound of their bodies slapping together, it was all so intoxicating, carrying her away from their troubles to a mindless oblivion. This space felt like their own sacred oasis, completely removed from the world and everything designed to keep them apart. Reagan could feel the tension in Caius's arms and she knew from the force in which he thrust against her that he was holding on for her too. She bit into her lower lip, arching against Caius as she writhed and strained for release. And then she was there, releasing short, but strangled cry as her orgasm slammed into her. The pleasure was so acute it was borderline painful, like every nerve ending was exposed and on fire. Reagan hadn't had time, or the voice, to demand that he come with her.
She might not have said it out loud, but Caius was right there with her anyway. The pleasure from the way Reagan’s body tightened up again around him and that noise she made was too much to resist, and now that he’d pushed her into another orgasm, Caius let go. He fucked her harder for a handful of seconds, hips pumping wildly as he reached his peak, then shuddered hard as he tumbled over it. His hands gripped Reagan with bruising force and a loud, deep noise of animal relief came out of him. Caius sank his teeth into the back of Reagan’s shoulder to muffle it, marking her in much the same way she’d done to him earlier. It all felt incredible, and Caius gave another few shaky thrusts to wring all the pleasure he could out of both of them. When he finally stopped, he felt breathless and weak-kneed and perfect.