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“I can’t come again,” I pleaded, and the fucker actually chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious. If I go off again, I’m going to pass out.”
“No, my love, you won’t. Relax. Let me make you fly. It’s so good, right?”
“I can’t even… I don’t know what… Oh shit, I’m serious. Please.”
“Come for me again, Storm. Then I’m going to finally sink into this heaven.”
He issued the instructions while doing something with the three fingers that were buried deep inside my body, and my soul splintered into pieces. My shout was silent because I couldn’t gulp enough air to supply it and every muscle in my body as I convulsed.
I gripped both sides of his head with the little strength I had left and held him a few inches above my throbbing core.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” I accused, but the goofy, sated grin that split my face gave the man all the accolades he needed. If I had an ounce of energy left, I’d roll over and repay the oral favor. God and all the angels knew my husband deserved my very best effort in gratitude.
But my limbs weighed a hundred pounds each, and I was exhausted. He wrang that last orgasm from my soul, no lie. If that wasn’t a chakra cleansing of the best kind, I couldn’t imagine what would be.
Wordlessly, I held my arms out to him, and blessed be the man between my thighs, he came to me. He kissed me passionately and held me so close with his strong arms, I wanted to fall asleep right there. The safety that blanketed my normally chaotic mind was overwhelming and frightening while being serene and magnificent at the same time.
Tears were suddenly choking off my breath, and I rolled my eyes back, trying to stave off the emotion. I’d only had this happen one time before after having sex, and with that dude, it was so embarrassing because it was a one-night stand. For a guy, what could be worse? The chick you took home and nailed to the twin bed in your childhood bedroom of your parents’ house goes stage-five basket case on your ass?
He never called for a second date.
But my husband arranged our bodies so we were lying on our sides, and he fit his perfectly behind mine. His need was still a hot, pulsing demand nestled in the crack of my ass, and no way was he getting in there. Not tonight at least. But I would still gladly welcome him inside my pussy if he made the attempt.
“Condom?” I asked about ten minutes later when the dry humping grew feverish again.
I didn’t think we’d ever get enough at this rate, and especially if it was always this good. A girl could get spoiled really quick with a man who’s this good in bed. It would be easy to forget about all the embarrassingly bad bedmates who came before him—literally.
It was probably like all bad experiences in life, though. You quickly discharged the negativity from your brain for self-preservation. Lord knew I’d had so many bad lovers in recent months. If I’d dwelled on those experiences, I wouldn’t have been in bed with my husband now. I would’ve missed out on all this glory.
His deep voice snapped me back to the moment instead of getting lost even deeper in my thoughts.
“No,” he said simply, and because he scrambled my brain by running the tips of his fingers through my sex, it took me a moment to understand what he was refusing with that answer.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me,” he said, stating the obvious.
“I know,” I panted. “Come on. Suit up and give it to me,” I insisted.
“No,” he repeated. “No condom.”
“Stop fucking around. Do you not have one?” I turned my head as far as possible to meet his hungry stare. “I might have one in my purse.”
“I have one. I just don’t want to use one. You are my wife. I’m clean. I’m assuming you are as well?”
While this conversation was complete shit, Carmen continued stimulating my pussy while we debated protection. I didn’t know how to respond. It seemed irresponsible—I mean, it had been drilled into our heads that you always used protection until you’re ready to take on the responsibility of having a child. I almost laughed out loud at that notion but harnessed my giggles to salvage the sexed-up atmosphere.
Carmen knelt behind me and lifted my hips off the mattress. I felt him line the head of his dick up in preparation to invade. It already felt so good. I pushed my ass toward him in a tempting invitation.
“Please,” I whimpered into the sheets.
“You didn’t answer. Tell me we’re good to go here,” he gritted out.
He leaned over me and bit my nape again right where he had earlier. The spot was so tender, it shot exquisite, pleasurable pain through my whole body. The sensation caused a moan to rocket out of me like a plea of its own.
“Yes. Yes. Yes…” I rolled my head from side to side using my forehead as the pivot point. “I just had testing done before we went to Vegas.”
The moment I completed that sentence, he thrust into me until his hips met my ass. Every molecule of air was sucked from my body. I couldn’t shower him with praise. I couldn’t shout joyful declarations into the air. Fuck, I couldn’t even breathe.
And, oh my God, he was bare. The sensations were so much more intense without that barrier between our bodies. Just the heat was enough to make me stutter.
