Her full breasts rise and fall as she breathes and it’s all I can do not to lean over and suck them. She definitely delivers in that department.
Who am I kidding? She delivers in every department.
My eyes roam down over her stomach and I frown when I get to her hips: four distinct bruises. I sit up so I can see her other hip and am appalled to find the same.
Finger marks.
I get a vision of us toward the end of last night, her on her knees on the bed with me standing behind her. The grip I had on her hips, the way she rode my cock . . . I feel the slow tantric beat of blood pumping through my body as I harden again.
She stretches as she sleeps and her legs fall open and the air leaves my lungs.
Fuck it.
Beard rash, all over her pretty lips. Red and prickly, it looks tender and sore.
I lie back down in disgust with myself. I completely lost my head. She’s covered in fucking bruises.
It’s been a long time since I had a night like that . . . if ever.
For someone so tight, she sure knows how to ride cock—I’ve never had sex so good.
Every inch of me was on fire.
My cock begins to throb; just the memory of last night incites arousal.
Cut it out, no sex for you.
She stirs, her eyes flutter open, and she gives me a big, beautiful smile. “Hi,” she whispers.
I smile, lean over, and kiss her softly. “Hey.” I brush the hair back from her forehead as I stare at her beautiful face.
Why am I so kissy?
She takes me into her arms and holds me tight and I smile into her hug, which doesn’t feel awkward, or weird. Quite the opposite—it’s nice. Familiar.
She pulls back and brushes the hair away from my forehead. “Last night was incredible,” she whispers, her voice husky.
“You’re incredible.” I pull her closer.
She smiles as she closes her eyes. “Does that thing ever go down?”
“Oh.” I pull back from her, realizing that she thinks I want sex again. “Sorry.”
She grabs my hip and pulls me back toward her. “Don’t be sorry, I’m not complaining.”
“You will be when you see your neck.” I widen my eyes in jest.
Her fingers go to her neck. “What’s wrong with my neck?”
“There’s about fifty bite marks on it,” I mutter.
She smirks. “You’re a fucking animal, my entire body is throbbing. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
Unable to help it, I lean down and bite her breast and she jumps. “I’m sorry, I was hard on you last night,” I apologize.
“Are you kidding? That was the best sex of my life.”
I stare at her as my brain misfires. The best sex of her life. “You’re so different from what I thought you would be.”
“Why?” She smiles up at me with an honesty I don’t know if I’ve ever seen.
My stomach rolls.
“I thought you’d be playing hard to get.”
She leans over and kisses me; her lips linger over mine. “And I thought you’d be cold, but you’re the opposite. Warm and tender . . . delicious.”
I blink, surprised. Tender . . . when have I ever been described as tender?
Okay, this is getting fucking weird now.